Choices of a Lifetime
by elvenwanderer
Summary: Gliriel is happy with her life, but something has to change, doesn't it? When the elves appear, will she be able to follow them? COMPLETED (Epilogue added)
1. That Wasn't There Earlier

Author: Elvenwanderer  
  
Title: Choices of A Lifetime  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: I make no monetary gain. and there is also the fact that I own nothing besides the word order of this story.  
  
Cast: Haldir/OFC, Galadriel, Celeborn, Rúmil and Orophin, various other OCs as secondary characters.  
  
Timeline: September 3019 (3rd age) and on  
  
Summary: Gliriel grew up among mortals, and she is happy with her life. When the elves come to Dunland, she must make a choice.  
  
Warnings: HALDIR OF LOTHLÓRIEN IS A MAIN CHARACTER IN THIS STORY. THIS FIC IS AN ORIGINAL FEMALE CHARACTER ROMANCE. Meaning: those of you who dislike a heterosexual Haldir under most circumstances you have been warned, and I will not tolerate flames. You have been warned.  
  
There are no homosexual jokes / insinuations / actions in this story.  
  
- Alyssa  
  
**  
  
September 6, 3019  
  
Ever since I was a small child, I had always known that I was different than my parents and three younger siblings. Whether it was my sight (not only could I see a hawk soaring on thermals miles higher than even Kiero, I could predict future happenings to some small extent) or the fact that no matter what I was fed, or how much, I would neither gain nor lose an ounce, I was not sure. Even my name was unlike theirs: Gliriel, flowing and soft on the tongue like cream.  
  
One bright, sunny and unusually warm September day, I was standing in the cornfield helping my eldest younger brother chase crows when Mother called us to the house for dinner. Today, though, there was a fearful and unfamiliar ring in her voice that I had seldom heard there before, especially concerning something so trivial as us coming to dinner (she should have had no fear of us not doing so). Something was unusual about the urgency with which she called to us, but Gunther didn't hear anything special, so I shrugged off the "alert" sensation that caused my muscles to tense an become ready to spring like a cat on the hunt.  
  
Again, Gunther challenged me to a race towards home - he usually did - and before I could answer, he took off at a loping run as fast as his long skinny legs would carry him. I grinned, waited a moment to give him a decent head start, and then jogged off after him.  
  
'Maybe I should let him win this time?' I thought quickly as my small feet carried me effortlessly through the rows of corn. I listened to the noise that was Gunther carving a path through the corn cease as he cleared the field, and a moment later I came to the end of the stalks and plowed directly into someone.  
  
Thankfully it was only my father, he pushed me down and we rolled in a small brawl. He pinned me down, and I successfully pushed him off of me to sprint off after Gunth, who was now nearly home. I was delayed by Dad's intentional distractions; he knew I had an unfair advantage at running.  
  
'Nah.' I answered myself and accelerated to an all out run; my hands brushed my sides and my hair flew out in pale waves behind me. The shrubs and grasses of the plain were now a colorful haze below me as was my brother a seemingly solitary blur when I passed by him. I looked back at him and grinned as the distance between us widened.  
  
I heard my name and the words "watch out" from behind me before I again realized that I had not given myself enough space to slow down before I reached the house. I tried to slow down, but it was no longer of any use.  
  
BAM.  
  
I had run head on into the thick paneled wooden door for the third time this week (and it was only Tuesday, too) and for the umpteenth time so far in my life, having done so each day since Gunther and I could both run. I could clearly see the look on my mother's face as she cringed at my daily incident.  
  
I hobbled backwards and my hand rubbed my forehead.  
  
"Fine! I'm fine." I called to my mother, before she asked.  
  
As usual, I ascertained no major injuries; just a stubbed - possibly broken - toe on my right foot. Let's see, that made two on that foot and three on the left. I looked down at the ground to see my boots and ended up leaning over with my hands on my knees trying to steady myself. Not a good plan, I shot back up as the nausea set in from bending over.  
  
Gunther came puffing up behind me and caught me in his arms as I wheeled dizzily around for a few seconds with stars in my eyes and a greenish tint to my face. I shook my head sharply to clear away the pinpoints of light and gave him a shaky grin. Gunth smiled and pulled me into a tight hug; he has always been my favorite sibling.  
  
"When are you going to learn not to go crashing into our front door?" He questioned softly in my ear as he rubbed my shoulder blades. I knew he was smiling through his worry and fear for my wellbeing.  
  
"If I keep getting attention from you, Bro, I don't want to." I replied with the same answer to the same question he always asked.  
  
Mother appeared from inside the house, and slapped a piece of meat on my face -mostly to prevent further bruising- when I turned to look towards her. She stepped between my brother and I and started yelling (most surprisingly) at him.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you two? No racing, someone might - and most likely, will - get hurt!" I mouthed the last part with a mockingly contorted face from behind her back.  
  
Mother whirled around when Gunth's face broke out in a huge grin from his scared, almost traumatized visage (Mother was waving a huge gutted - but not skinned - fish at him. who wouldn't be scared of an angry woman waving a limp fish?). Mother's fish slapped Gunth "in the gut" as she turned with the scaly pike. With her free hand, she pinched my sensitive ear strongly between two distinctly fish-smelling fingers.  
  
"How about you? How many times must I tell you not to race -"  
  
"Ow, ow, OW, OW, MOM!" Her other arm flailed around and she fishlessly poked the ticklish spot on my stomach. Gunth had caught the flapping pike before anyone else could get seriously injured by means of a dead fish.  
  
I laughed, dropping down and wrapping my arms around myself to protect my stomach from further attack and Mother let go of my ear, only to prod me into the house (thankfully through the door this time) and she set me to chopping vegetables.  
  
"Oh, why thank you, Gunther!" Mother exclaimed with sickening mock sweetness when he followed us in the house, fish in hand.  
  
He raised a dubious eyebrow at her. "For what?"  
  
"For volunteering to finish that fish for me! You're so kind." She pulled him into a headlock and kissed his forehead. No wonder she brought the fish outside. Smart woman.  
  
"There are some more over there, dear." She added with fake innocence, while gesturing towards a bucket. Gunther groaned; he had been trapped, hook, line and sinker.  
  
I snickered and after slicing the carrots, I began dicing the potatoes, slipping a small chunk to Padu, our mixed- breed dog. He crunched loudly, and Mother shot me a stern look that clearly said, "don't feed the dog table scraps."  
  
"Traitor." I swore smugly at the dog, my face set in a scowl. I swear he grinned back at me.  
  
"All right, you two. Go clean up." Mother ordered when both Gunth and I had finished the chores she set us. I led the way to the well and struggled to haul up a full bucket of water. With the affixed ladle, I scooped a bit out and poured the clear water over Gunth's messy fish-hands, he then washed his face also.  
  
We switched places and I rubbed dust and dirt off of my face while he kindly picked a few leaves and other trace amounts of vegetation out of my hair. While waiting for Mother to call us back, I sat on the rock and mortar wall with my back against the wooden support for the cupola covering the well. I pulled my right leg up onto the stones and yanked my muddy boot off.  
  
Immediately Gunther, who had been leaning on the little roof, jumped back and waved his hand in front of his face, as if complaining about my feet smelling.  
  
"Oh shuddup. Your feet smell like rotting horse muck if mine smell at all." I retorted. He scoffed, but agreed slightly as he reattached the ladle to the bucket.  
  
"Whatcha doing, anyhow?"  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I held my foot and gingerly fingered the two purple toes. Ouch.  
  
Hold on a sec. That wasn't there earlier. I stared between my big toe and second toe at a silvery dot in the distance. I tensed like I always do when I discover something, and Gunther must have seen me stiffen and followed my gaze. I pulled my boot on again and winced as the leather squished my toes together.  
  
"What is it? What do you see?" He whispered, not wanting to scare anything if it happened to be alive and nearby.  
  
"I don't know." The dot disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "Nothing."  
  
Just then Mother called us to dinner, but I kept staring at the spot where the dot was. I jumped, and almost fell in the well (I've done that before, too), when Gunther clapped a hand on my shoulder.  
  
"It's just your eyes, Gliri. You're always seeing things the rest of us can't. Besides, it's probably just the sunset." He assured, bouncing his hand supportively on my shoulder. "Don't fret, sis, you're no crazier than the rest of us."  
  
"Yeah. just the sunset." I nodded slowly. Oaf. Sunset was in the west, not the southwest, especially at this time of year. He steered my shoulders towards our house, but, for the first time, I didn't want dinner.  
  
Something was out there; I wanted to know what it was. 


	2. Southwest

This is set on the plains of Dunland when the elves are returning from Minas Tirith after the crowning of King Elessar. Uhh. let's see. there's about a week before the Lothlorien elves depart over the misty mountains, so this should be at the beginning of September. :)  
  
~*^*~  
  
"But, Father!?"  
  
"You heard me the first two times, Gliri, I don't want you to go out riding tonight." Father repeated for the third time as he shoveled a piece of Swanfleet pike into his mouth.  
  
"But, why?!" I whined; my five-year old mentality kicking in. He had never forbidden this before.  
  
He slowly chewed and swallowed. My three siblings stared at me with wide, incredulous eyes. No one had ever questioned my father's word three times; my record was two. I paid no heed to their eyes, and my furious gaze shifted to my mother.  
  
She stirred the food on her plate and wouldn't meet my eyes. She cleared her throat, and my head whipped around to my father when he next spoke.  
  
"I heard a wolf howl earlier." He described simply.  
  
Okay, fine. He had forbidden me to go out riding a few times, but only when we had actually seen the Wargs. I had always been the first to hear, and see the beasts, but this day I had heard nothing. My eyes narrowed. "Liar," I breathed angrily through my teeth. Silence followed my words; well, silence followed my word.  
  
Just as he had almost never prohibited me to go out riding, no one had ever openly called my father a liar. and lived to tell the truth.  
  
"What did you say?" The blood had drained from his face, and his voice was deathly quiet; I was really overstepping my boundaries. He set down his fork and knife, and calmly wiped his mouth with his napkin before crossing his hands on his lap. He locked onto my eyes and I did not look away.  
  
"I heard, nor saw any such wolf. Only the mice of the cornfields."  
  
Father stood up, knowing he had been caught in a lie for the first time in his life. I never said he had never lied, I just said he had never been found out.  
  
"Gliriel, go to your room. Now." Mother commanded stiffly before anyone got hurt. I stood up and stormed away from the table, slamming the door of my room behind me. I flopped down on my bed and flung an arm over my face. My mind was hatching a plan, simple, but delicate, and I let myself fall asleep. I would need the rest later.  
  
**  
  
Once in the night, one of my parents opened my door to check if I was asleep or not, and that accomplished, they left and went to bed. Finally, after what seemed like hours, when I heard five different snores issuing from my five relatives, I sat up, wide-awake, on my bed.  
  
I jumped to my feet, and cracked open my door, cursing at the hinges as they creaked like thunder on the plains. I waited, my hand frozen on the wooden frame, until I heard, once again, the steady breathing of five snoring family members. As I opened the door further, the creaking continued.  
  
'I'm really gonna have to oil those hinges one of these days.' Even my thoughts seemed loud in the silent darkness. The dog sat up and whimpered as I passed him, but I begged him to be - for once in my life - quiet, with an angry look. Nearing the front door, I grabbed Gunther's scarlet cloak off of a hook on the wall and shrugged it onto my shoulders.  
  
Fishing around in my large pocket for a moment, I pulled out a leather band, and stuffed it in my mouth as I pulled my heavy blonde hair backwards. Wrapping it into a messy bun, I twisted the leather band around my hair, and tucked it into the hood.  
  
My hair: another painful reminder that I was different. I was the only one not to have brown hair, and the fact that my blonde hair was completely and perfectly straight definitely clashed with my siblings' curls and ringlets.  
  
I cringed when the latch of our front door closed behind me, sounding like a rock sending ripples throughout a shallow pool of water.  
  
I strode quickly over to our barn where our horses were stabled for the night. I slid open the wide door and vaulted over the railing into the stall where my dear companion was kept.  
  
When Father gave him to me, I called him what I saw fit, though I am not sure where I came up with his name from. But Maethor was massive. He was easily at least five hands higher, and three times stronger and faster than any of our other horses. Father said Maethor hailed from Rohan and that he was a Maeras (whatever that is) but there was something about him that wasn't quite. I don't know. Would it be fair for me to call any horse from Rohan crude? Maethor made the other horses look like dogs in comparison. He was much smoother and graceful, even for his size, and he was quiet. His shoed hooves made almost as little noise as my feet, even on the cobblestone floor of the barn. There was also the fact that we had him for ten years and he doesn't look any older.  
  
I layed my hand gently on his muzzle and rubbed his strong neck. His eyes sparkled like stars from anticipation; he knew we would be flying over the plains any moment now. He couldn't wait.  
  
"My friend? We're going to have to be extra careful tonight, I'm afraid." I whispered as I trailed a finger along a muscle on his leg. "Father doesn't want me to go out tonight, and I want to know why. Don't you?"  
  
He bobbed his head up and down in agreement. "That's my boy: always in for an adventure!"  
  
I swung up habitually onto his back, and dug my hands into his mane. He paced a few steps backwards, until his rear end was touching the wall of the barn. Charging forward, Maethor easily cleared the bars on the gate to his stall, his hooves making a muffled "clop" as he landed.  
  
I leaned forward onto his neck and whispered into his fuzzy pointed ear. "I saw something earlier, Maethor. I know in my brain, as well as my heart, that that was the reason my parents didn't want me to leave."  
  
He bobbed his head forwards again, almost throwing me off in the process. He then stamped his foot impatiently wondering in which direction was tonight's venture.  
  
"Southwest."  
  
Alas, my power over him ended there. He took off into the star filled night, jumping over rocks, and his hooves pounding noiselessly on the plain. He went at full gallop, which caused my hood to fly off, and the leather band holding my hair to come loose. My white moonlit tresses streamed behind us as the only indicator something was afoot on the plains of Dunland on a cool September night.  
  
~*^*~  
  
well, there was chappy two. let's see if it goes any better than chappy 1..  
  
Oh. look! Oh my gosh! It's the review button. I need five reviews before I post another chappy! Five decent reviews. flames will be fed to my dragons. of which there are two. 


	3. Inferior?

After what seemed only a few seconds of riding, Maethor slowed to a halt behind a lone boulder just as a campsite came into view. My mount blew out a great cloud of steam and his tail flickered excitedly behind him; he wanted to keep going. I slid stiffly off of his back, and rubbed his sweaty neck after stretching a moment to loosen my muscles.  
  
"Thank you, my good friend, I shall return relatively soon. I hope."  
  
He snorted in protest when he realized what I meant to do, but too late: I was already twenty feet away, crouched low behind a thorn bush. I leapt up, and scurried forwards to another bush, only about twenty feet distant from the campsite.  
  
There were many four posted tents; some lit and yellow with shadows moving inside, the rest dark and purple in the night. Near the largest was hung a large triangular flag. standard- most people call it, I think. then, on the other side of the camp was another large tent where a different flag was hung. There seemed to be a line dividing the grey canvas tents from the white or cream canvas tents, as if they were from two different countries.  
  
A stray piece of hair fell from my bun and into my face in front of my eyes. I absentmindedly brushed it behind my ear to get it out of the way for the time being. My hand froze in the air as my fingers brushed over the cartilage of my right ear.  
  
That wasn't there earlier. That definitely wasn't there earlier.  
  
Obviously, I couldn't pull my ear off to examine it properly (I would have if I had been able) so I reached my left hand to my left ear.  
  
That wasn't there earlier either.  
  
My jaw dropped open and my eyes widened in astonishment. There were points on my ears.  
  
My mouth snapped shut as my attention was drawn back to the campsite by someone walking out of the larger - possibly the largest - tents. He, I'm sure he was a he by the way he was built, strode - no glided is a far better word - a few feet away from the tents. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked up at the stars, a jet of steam issuing from his nose as he breathed.  
  
I gasped lightly as a woman came out of the same tent. She glided (no, floated is a better word) towards him, and reached up to massage his shoulders. She spoke to him, and I could barely make out their conversation after he answered.  
  
"The stars are different here, Love, they almost remind me of Doriath." He commented, his voice strong, yet wise and terribly sad.  
  
The woman sighed, in agreement I would guess. "Celeborn dear, you should get some rest." She tried to pull him, but her hands had no effect on him at all.  
  
I realized that these two must have been married, but it's not like they were kissing or anything so I wasn't invading privacy and imposing on something personal. Besides, I was here before Celbron, or whatever his name was, got out of the tent.  
  
Who were these people? Why were they here on the abandoned plains of Dunland? They certainly didn't seem like farmers..  
  
Cele. whatsisname. wrapped his wife in his arms, but continued staring at the stars. I looked up, hoping to find some answers of my own in what was obviously enchanting this man. I was brought out of my thoughts as they began speaking again, though I had no clue what they were saying, because it was in a language I didn't speak. I remembered hearing it before though, I think.  
  
Their words were liquid sound; the flowing syllables reminded me of wind blowing across the fields of wheat and grain. I was awestruck, the words they spoke before seemed to be what it would sound like if my family's chickens tried to speak Westron. Well. I was bored one day, and had taught the hens to say: "I'm a hungry dinner." My mother hadn't been impressed when her chickens called out in all hours of the day (and night) "I'm a hungry dinner! I'm a hungry dinner!" Needless to say, we ate them first.  
  
After a while, Celeb. I give up. Anyway, the dude permitted himself to be pulled into the tent by his wife. Momentarily, the woman's eyes caught mine and she smiled. It was only in passing, so I don't know if the smile was from winning against her husband, or if she really saw me and knew I was there. As soon as they disappeared in their tent, I sprinted back and relayed to Maethor everything I heard before we rode home.  
  
**  
  
The next morning, everything had cleared up at home, and I told myself, that, now that I had found out what was there, I didn't need to go back. By the afternoon, I knew that that promise was going to be impossible to keep. Those two people had fascinated me beyond what I thought was feasible; I had to return. I would go that night because I would have no idea when they were leaving if I didn't.  
  
That night, again disobeying my parent's orders I rode Maethor in the direction of the campsite. This time, seeing no one about, I snuck as close as I dared up to the great tent from which the pair had come, and kneeled out side of it, trying to listen to their conversation. I froze in one spot when I finally heard voices from inside, and again, I could understand nothing of what was said. That was until I heard the name "Haldir," my heart did a flip-flop for some strange reason as one man got up and left the tent.  
  
Suddenly, I felt two pointed things at my shoulder blades. Damn, I cursed under my breath to myself as I realized what this meant: I had been found out, and there were two arrows in my back. Damn, damn, damn. Damn. Father is going to be beside himself with anger.  
  
One of the owners of the arrows ordered me to do something in that wonky language of theirs, which I only understood as "stand up!" from the fact that I was kneeling down. I raised my hands and locked them behind my head in innocence, and I slowly got to my knees and stood. The arrow in my left shoulder nudged me to turn around to face them.  
  
My eyes widened in fear under my hood as I felt a sword come into contact with the skin on my neck. There was no quaver in the pressure denoting a steady handed master. In the darkness I could determine the outline of three men. The one holding the rapier reached behind me with his other hand and I flinched as my hood fell, exposing my face.  
  
That night I had only shoveled my hair into my hood when I had left, and now it flooded over my shoulders, covering my ears and the man's sword. Slowly, he reached up and pushed a bit of my hair away from my ear; I winced as the cool air collided with my pointed, yet sensitive ear. His hand trailed lightly down my back causing me to shiver, but the sword lowered, as did the arrows. I let out a sigh of relief; maybe they would let me leave.  
  
Not a good idea, apparently, as the guy with the sword grabbed my arms and led me to the entrance of the tent. That was only after giving me a good yell and sheathing the curved sword. I stared placidly at him; his incomprehensible words had no meaning whatsoever and bounced off of me.  
  
"Will you let me go?" I interrupted him in Rohirric, and deeming that he didn't understand me, I jerked my arm from his grasp.  
  
"No."  
  
"Please let me go!" I asked in Westron this time, receiving the same answer and a painful squeeze on my arm. He guided me to the front entrance of the tent and the four of us entered.  
  
"Hannad le, Haldir, Rúmil, a Orophin." The woman I heard last night said quietly. The guy holding my arm released me momentarily and bowed to the name Haldir. The archers bowed and left the tent. Haldir made a report in the language, his eyes fixed on me - I could feel his unruffled gaze on my head and back.  
  
"You may let her free, Marchwarden; she will do us no harm." Celeborn (so that's his name!!) commanded lightly in Westron. finally something I could understand. I felt the iron grip on my arm and wrist loosen and disappear, and I rubbed my sore wrists; there would be a bruise in the morning. This Marchwarden stepped back to a corner after bowing and crossed his arms tensely in front of him.  
  
"What are you doing here, dear?" The woman from the night before asked, her voice even, but a hint of curiosity rang through. Her eyes locked onto mine and I couldn't look away; I felt open, like a book, for any and all in the room to read. Now, for the first time in my life, I felt inferior to another being. I had always been stronger than my father, and more graceful than my mother. This new feeling of inferiority heralded fear; another emotion I had only felt a few times in my life, but now, I couldn't help being scared. 


	4. Where Are We Going Again?

~^*^~  
  
"Do not worry, Gliriel, you are among friends of your own kind. There is no reason to feel inferior here." A man, sitting near, but not next to the woman spoke up in a tranquil tone. His voice held kindness and unimaginable wisdom that I had considered possible. Hair seemed to be the only thing I noticed that night; he was the only one of us that was not blonde.  
  
In response, I cocked my head to the side, and muttered, "My own kind?" I had never associated myself with such a people who seemed so. like me. yet, not so.  
  
Without answering, the woman with the beautiful golden hair asked where I lived. I answered as truthfully as I knew, but she seemed slightly taken aback when I replied that I lived nearby. She then spoke in the strange language that was completely lost on me. this was getting frustrating. The man with the sword, Haldir, layed his hand on my arm, and I spun around to receive a face-full of blonde locks and armor. Surprised at his stealth -and the fact that he was standing so close behind me- I stepped backwards and almost fell onto the silver haired Celeborn, but Haldir's arms wrapped around my waist before I completely lost my balance. and dwindling dignity.  
  
As soon as I was on my feet, Haldir looked at me almost tenderly, and asked if I was all right. I shot him a strange look, and recovering almost instantly, he grabbed my arm to guide me again. He turned and walked to the entrance of the tent when the brown haired man said something positively humorous that 1) made Haldir grimace and loosen his tight hold on my arm and 2) caused the two other people to laugh hysterically. Well, I at least, agreed with Haldir: I didn't find whatever he said the smallest bit funny. at all.  
  
Once outside, I jerked my arm from Haldir's grasp, only for him to put another death-grip on my elbow. Again. Boy, this adventure was turning out to be a lot of fun.  
  
"So tell me. Hadlir. where are you taking me?"  
  
"My name is Haul-deer, Lady Gliriel." He growled, apparently he was short of sleep, or the one dude's comment was really getting to him.  
  
Ahh, so he can't stand to have his name pronounced wrong. This will be fun.  
  
"My name is Gleer-ee-el, not Gleer-ee-ail. Now, where are we going?" I repeated my question, and tugged slightly on my arm, testing his hold. Still strong.  
  
"Ninety-two, seventy-six, eleven, twenty-eight." Don't get me wrong; I'm a great helper when I want to be. But not right then. Haldir seemed to be counting tents as we passed them, and I decided to "help" him. He steered me down one row after another, paying my voice no heed, as if he couldn't understand me, though I knew he did.  
  
"Where are we going? Are we there yet?" I repeated for a third time. He looked sidelong at me while I grinned sardonically to him.  
  
"You heard the Lady Galadriel." He replied, his voice clearly stretching from my annoyance. I was getting to him.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Couldn't miss her voice.. She was the one with the long hair, right?"  
  
They all had had long hair.  
  
Haldir nodded tersely and flung me around a corner.  
  
"Calm down, bud. Where are we going?"  
  
"I thought you said you heard her."  
  
"Oh, I heard her all right, but-"  
  
"Then good. That's where we're going."  
  
"But I didn't understand a thing she said."  
  
He stopped so suddenly that I was pulled back onto him when I tried to continue walking. "What? How could you not?"  
  
I turned on my most sarcastic smile; it was obvious when I didn't like someone, and here was a classic example. "They seemed to grasp that idea well enough. It seems to take a bit longer to sink through sheet metal." I poked at the weak spot in his armor. He swatted at my hand.  
  
"No, no, no, NO, NO!" He cursed lightly. "I can't believe this."  
  
"What?" He was staring wide-eyed at a tent.  
  
"Galadriel and Celeborn made me take the long way when they told me where you were to stay.. My tent." He sounded disbelieving of his own words.  
  
"What?" I didn't believe his words either. He looked at me, his face aghast at having to camp with me. Of course I didn't want to be anywhere near him either.  
  
"The Lady will talk to you in the morning, but for now you are staying here."  
  
"Did they not believe me? I have a home just a few minutes ride from here. I can't stay here. my parents will kill me if they wake up and find I'm gone."  
  
"That's all well and good, but you aren't leaving."  
  
"Yes, I am!" I pulled (or at least tried to) my arm from his hands, but the damn bastard still didn't let go. I planted my feet firmly on the ground and he tugged on my arm. I did not move an inch, but I could tell he wasn't using all of his strength.  
  
He stopped pulling, and took a deep breath. "They put you in my care, young one-"  
  
"I am not young! I'm eighteen!" I interrupted angrily.  
  
"Which you have made quite obvious through your immaturity. And, yes, you are young, compared Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn or Lord Elrond or even myself."  
  
"Oh, and how old would you be?"  
  
He proudly drew himself up to his full height and puffed his chest. "I am just over three thousand years old, Lady Galadriel is nearly three times that."  
  
My mouth dropped open. Elves. That was why these people were so beautiful (with a noted exception to Haldir) and seemed to glide about. As for Haldir, I wouldn't have placed him a day above my father's age. Never would I have said above forty, either.  
  
Haldir took advantage in the temporary lull in my resistance and shoved me inside the tent. Once inside, he threw me on his cot, and told me to remain there until he got back.  
  
(AN: I know what this sounds like. but trust me, it's not.)  
  
Haldir left and apparently visited the neighbor's tent to fetch something. I knowing I might not have another chance, made a break for it. Sneaking to the tent flap, I peeked out. Not seeing Haldir or anybody else, I ran to the end of the row of tents. Glancing around the corner, I felt an arm wrap around my waist. I was lifted cleanly off my feet and carried under Haldir's arm, in similar fashion to the pile of blankets under his other arm. Frantically I started kicking and hitting him wherever I could. Mostly, I hit the metal of his armor, but my fist did find one unprotected spot. I wouldn't be the only one with bruises in the morning after all.  
  
He gasped, dropped me to the ground and crumpled over in pain, grabbing the affected area. Mwuhahaa, he won't be walking without pigeon toes any time soon! I, grinning, took off at a run, but - much to my annoyance- Haldir called out a few names and words, causing elves to come rushing out of tents.  
  
Oh, shoot, Dad's really gonna be pissed now. I've got four. no, five elves chasing after me. Dammit! I sprinted as fast as I could, but my pursuers easily caught up. Deeming it useless to run much further, I slowed down and was escorted unhappily back to Haldir's tent.  
  
This time, I was thrown on the cot while an irate looking Marchwarden limped painfully in when the elves left. His eyes were narrowed, I could tell, and his fists were balled. I could also tell he was using a lot of self-control not to hit me.  
  
"I told you earlier, I need to get home." I stated indignantly, realizing happily that no matter how angry he was at me, he wouldn't want to hurt me.  
  
"Promise me, Gliriel, that you will not try to leave again." He sunk into a chair and put his head in his hands. Nice show of fake emotion. "If you go to sleep, the Lady will sort out the matters of your parents in the morning."  
  
"And if I don't go to sleep?"  
  
"I suspect she will deal with your parents anyway, you won't be in trouble, I don't think." Something about his voice made me want, subconsciously mind you, to get up and comfort him, but I was suddenly very tired and I tried to stifle a yawn. Didn't work, my arms involuntarily stretched over my head, and my feet kicked out in front of me.  
  
When I refused to lie down and permit myself to sleep, Haldir tiredly muttered an apology and a promise followed by a string of elven words. Suddenly, I felt even more exhausted, so much so that I could do nothing but flop onto the cot. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.  
  
~^*^~ 


	5. Did I say Cute?

The next morning, for some reason, I woke up feeling warm and contented. Still half asleep, I realized that Haldir must have put a blanket over me some time in the night, because there was a fuzzy woolen feeling on my neck.  
  
That warm feeling I was talking about was especially concentrated on my left hip, where my hand was; my head was resting on my right, or so I thought. I didn't feel any weight on that hand, and my fingers were at an odd angle on my hip that should have been painful. which it wasn't. I squeezed something - a third hand, possibly - in my left, and pinched what felt like an ear with my right. I didn't feel the expected pain so I pinched harder.  
  
I gasped as my sleepy brain realized that I didn't and couldn't have three hands. My eyes flung open to see a cute face inches from mine. Haldir looked like he was awake, his eyes were open. Only then I realized that most elves slept with their eyes open. thankfully.  
  
Did I say cute?  
  
No. I didn't say cute. I know I didn't say cute. Right? I didn't say cute.  
  
I gasped again; petrified of us being this close, but then I realized that he was still sleeping. And there was something even better: Mister Manly Elf was mumbling.  
  
Getting over the initial shock of laying this near to Haldir, a mischievous grin crossed my innocent face (innocent? Ha.). What was he saying?  
  
"Meril. not there." he laughed impishly and muttered something indiscernible. "No. not again. no. (something unclear). oh. dear. (something indescribably gross)." GRUNT.  
  
It was all I could do to keep from laughing, and I'm sure he could have gone on, but I didn't think I could handle it. nor could he from the moans and groans he was making.  
  
Talk about a "sound sleeper."  
  
I moved my hand from his and gave him a sharp slap to the cheek, simply to wake him up. Haldir's eyes unclouded and his hand flew off my hip and tightly caught my wrist. His eyes widened as he saw my grinning face staring back at him.  
  
He flung himself backwards and was standing before I even realized he had moved. Haldir turned and stared at the wall of the tent with his arms crossed in front of him and bouncing nervously from one foot to the other.  
  
I stood up and dusted myself off, almost guiltily watching Haldir's anxiety unfold. It felt good to have leverage over him, but it felt bad to see him feel that way. I could sense his nervousness. his worry that he could have hurt me in ways that I couldn't imagine, but I felt something there that I couldn't interpret. I had to say something and when I was about to open my mouth, he whirled around and asked me if I felt different.  
  
Half understanding what he meant, I shook my head and looked into his plainly worried eyes. I shook off the urge to put my hand on his arm and he started pacing, the small space of the tent making that hard. Obviously not believing me, he again asked if I felt different.  
  
I told him that we hadn't done any of what he thought and I assured him that I wouldn't lie about something so serious like that.  
  
He stopped pacing to look at me, and I caught a relieved smile appear on his arrogant lips. He soon hid it, but not before I saw it.  
  
"So you lie about other things?"  
  
I laughed and nodded, his smile momentarily returning. "Only about minor things." I replied. Only then did I realize that we were not speaking with our mouths, but with our minds.  
  
How was this possible? My brothers and sister can't do this.  
  
"They are not elves."  
  
For some reason, this echoed through my mind longer than any other thought my entire life. The word "they" seemed almost exclusive, as if I were so different from them, but still the same blood flowed in our veins. What I just realized now was more horrible just hearing and seeing better than them, it was the fact that they would grow old and die while I would look similar to what I did now for eternity. that was if I was an elf. That wasn't possible. It just couldn't be.  
  
"Come. Gliriel. The Lady would like to see you." Haldir spoke verbally this time, shocking me momentarily with the intensity of sound. He reached out for my arm; though with more gentleness and less emotional detachment did he hold my elbow this time. Leading me back towards the Lord and Lady's tent, consequentially in the same direction as my home, Haldir explained a bit of recent events, as we had heard nothing in our little house on the plains of deserted Dunland. From what he said, I was starting to grasp that the Lords and Lady were important people. and old. Older than I would ever hope to become. Of course, one hundred years seemed like the whole of time to anyone at the age of eighteen.  
  
Haldir opened the tent flap and shoved me in, this time not following. Seeing the Lady and Lords in front of me, I bowed courteously, wondering why and not knowing the exact method as to how.  
  
"Good morning, Gliriel. I trust you slept well?" Galadriel questioned kindly, looking into my eyes. I again felt the "open-book" experience and knew that Galadriel (if not Celeborn and Elrond) comprehended my and Haldir's little "encounter." There was a small smile dancing on the Lady's lips and her eyes shone with a strange brightness that was not there the night before.  
  
I gulped, but nodded. Celeborn welcomingly invited me to sit at the small breakfast table and eat with them. Just realizing that I was very hungry (I hadn't eaten since dinner two days ago), I accepted the invitation. 


	6. My Little Sunshine

If I had known then how atrocious my eating habits were as compared to any other person's, never again would another morsel have passed my lips. Ever.  
  
Sitting crosswise with my elbows leaning on the small table, I shoved a whole muffin in my mouth and it spun around while I chewed. When that was gone, I reached across Galadriel and grabbed a roll; slabbed butter on it, then it was shoved in my open mouth. Celeborn, the prim elf that he was, tried his hardest not to stare at me, though I had no idea as to why. I knew of no other way to eat; reaching and grabbing were common happenings at my family's table. I'm amazed that I didn't start throwing things; food fights were as much an occurrence as shoving, snatching, belching and burping.  
  
I manhandled the glass goblet of wine that was set in front of me, and involuntarily spit it out over the elf I later came to know as Elrond (he was the one who spoke about me being among my people, too), when I heard the familiar bark and cry of the Isengard wolves.  
  
It was followed by a faint female scream.  
  
Before I realized it, I was on my feet and running towards the last spot I had seen Maethor the night before. He had fallen asleep, but was now wide- awake while the warg barked triumphantly in the distance. I was on Maethor's back in a flash and we were flying over the plains, faster than we ever had before. I heard a faint, but shrill, whistle behind me and I knew Haldir, or some other elf, was calling for his horse. I didn't care if they were coming after me; the only thought on my mind was my family.  
  
Soon, very soon, Maethor and I were within one hundred feet of my home, and since I wasn't armed, we went to the barn, where there would always be some easily manipulated farm tool. Inside, the biggest Warg I had ever seen was preying on something, below him I could see a scrap of fabric from my mother's favorite dress. Grimacing, I grabbed a pitchfork off of the wall, and sent the rest of the tools clattering loudly to the ground. The warg, momentarily surprised, spun around, and licked its chops at seeing me, another food source. I had no clue what I was doing so I threw the pitchfork at the beast's head.  
  
Bad idea. Very baaad idea.  
  
He dodged the three-pronged spear and charged at Maethor and I. My horse reared onto his hind legs to avoid the animal, and I was thrown to the ground. I sat up and shook my head to clear stars from my vision while meanwhile Maethor kicked the Warg into the wall with his powerful hind legs. For being the leader, it wasn't too bright. it kept trying to pull its head away while bearing its teeth and growling. only making it's neck and head bigger..  
  
I slowly got to my feet and pulled the pitchfork out of the ground. Tossing it once in my hand, I threw it with all my strength and anger at the wolf from Isengard. It fell to the ground, but did not stop kicking feebly as it whined in pain. I knew it could stand again, and that it would most likely kill me, but I didn't care; at that moment I only cared for one thing. A whimper emitted from the mangled pile of cloth and blood that was my mother. My dear, sweet, intelligent mother.  
  
I let out a sad scream and dropped to her side, putting my hand on her face to let her know I was there. She moved her hand and laid it on my cheek, the blood on her fingertips stung my eyes, but I held her hand on my face. She cracked open her eyes and smiled dreamily as she saw me.  
  
"My little sunshine." She whispered in Rohirric, her first language, as blood dribbled from her mouth and down her cheek to her brown curly hair.  
  
"Mother-" I started to say.  
  
"G-go wuh-with them. but re-ee-member, we will. always. love. y-" She managed to make out in words before she exhaled her last. My mind registered a whooshing sound from behind me, and a gurgling whimper from the warg, but that still was not what I was paying attention to. I was staring into my mother's open eyes. Her clouded open eyes. Her lifeless open eyes.  
  
I sensed, rather than heard, someone come up behind me, and again, somehow, I knew it was Haldir. He crouched down next to me, and closed my mother's glazed eyes with a gentle brush of his fingers.  
  
I looked up at his face, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. Instead he wrapped his arm around my shoulders in support. This silently told me that they others were gone too. A tear fell slowly down my cheek, followed by its twin from the other eye; and both heralded a river of tears.  
  
I leaned onto Haldir and beat his chest with my fists in a rage of sadness. For his sake, I was glad that he was wearing armor again. Somehow knowing he would understand, I let myself cry.  
  
I wept for little Mala who had been only five years old; her blue eyes and imagination seemed indistinguishable. I wept for twelve year old Keiro, our father's younger twin. I wept for my mother, how she would always come between my father and I.. But I wept the hardest for Gunth, by far my favorite family member. How I would live without our daily races was impossible for me to imagine. Though I cried hardest for Gunth, I shed the most tears for my father. I had left him when we were angry at each other, and I hadn't said good-bye.  
  
Now I never would.  
  
At this thought, I wailed even louder, but Haldir still held my head comfortingly, though I'm sure I hit him more than once where the armor did not protect.  
  
When I finally quieted down, most likely from exhaustion, Haldir picked my limp body up and set me on Maethor, who obediently moved near us to help. Haldir climbed up behind me, and gingerly wrapped his arms around my waist before Maethor sped back off towards the elven encampment. What I didn't know then was that Haldir's own horse, Celeg, had been killed by a warg, but I was in no state to worry or care.  
  
The Marchwarden kindly carried me into Galadriel's tent and explained some of what happened. In response, the woman said nothing out loud, but Haldir nodded and carried me to his tent. In my grief, I could only concentrate on the slight up and down motion of his walking and the cool feel of the leather strap of his arrow quiver compared to the warmth of his red woolen cape on my ear. Suddenly I was set down, and I felt softness below me, and the weight of a light blanket over me. I rested in a fitful, dreamless sleep until the next morning.  
  
When I was conscious again, I realized that Haldir was gone, but another elf sat in his place at the head of the cot.  
  
"Here, drink, Gliriel." A soothing voice commanded lightly, it sounded like Haldir, but the hand under my head was not the correct size - it was too small to be Haldir's - and the voice was just not right. The sound held more jokes in it, and was more carefree and light, though troubled at the moment.  
  
He pressed a cup against my mouth and I could feel cool liquid grace my lips. Obligingly, I took a sip, and the drink coated my dry throat enough for me to talk. I asked him his name, for I didn't know who he was.  
  
He shot me a strange look, but proclaimed himself Rúmil, youngest brother of Haldir. I nodded in appreciation, and unquestioningly took another sip of the cool, refreshing drink that was plainly not water. Before I could protest, though, I was nodding off to sleep with help from the potion. 


	7. What Am I Going To Do With You?

"What are we to do with Gliriel?" Haldir confessed his doubts to Galadriel and Celeborn over a glass of wine.  
  
"We shouldn't do anything further with her if it is against her wishes." The Lord answered calmly before sipping at a glass of wine before continuing. Haldir cocked his head to the side, and shot a questioning look at Celeborn. "She was raised to her current level by her mortal relatives, and obviously considers herself one, which is apparent by her eating habits." A momentary twinkle shone in his eyes. "Gliriel is eighteen, and an adult by her mortal standards, meaning-"  
  
"But she is clearly not mortal. By our principles she is yet an elfling." Haldir interrupted bravely; he was one of the few elves in Middle-earth who had enough gall to do so. Understandably so: Celeborn was once in the same position in Doriath, he was a Marchwarden who was a close friend and relative to the King Thingol; although Haldir was not related to either Galadriel or Celeborn.  
  
"She is competent, and comprehends what happened yesterday Haldir." Celeborn gingerly set down his wine glass. "Though she has been unkind and impishly impolite to you, Marchwarden, she is more intelligent than you might think. Do not think her a fool nor downplay her, you will end up the worse."  
  
Haldir's eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance, and his hand clenched his fist behind his back, but he nodded. It had been a long time since Lord Celeborn had used his title; the two friends having foregone the formality. Haldir, taking the warning, did not voice the thoughts in his volatile mind, and proficiently blocked Galadriel from reading his thoughts, as she was wont to do.  
  
"We shall let her decide whether she will accompany us to Lothlórien or Elrond to Rivendell. That is if she wishes to leave this land at all, which remains to be seen." The Lady of Light broke in promptly, sensing the two males' irritation with each other.  
  
Celeborn gazed triumphantly over to his wife, but Galadriel continued to look straight at Haldir, refusing to humor her husband totally in that decision.  
  
"I will present her with this choice." The Lady of Lórien finished with an almost arrogant diplomacy, much to Celeborn's evident dismay. Haldir, also clearly disconcerted for losing, bowed and left their tent. Galadriel layed a hand on her husband's shoulder reminding him what she had foreseen about the she-elfling now in their Marchwarden's charge.  
  
**  
  
Haldir opened the flap entrance to his tent and at first glance, didn't see Gliriel upon his cot; the place he had specifically told his brothers to keep her, no matter the cost. He turned around to leave and search for them, but whipped around when he heard someone call his name.  
  
"Haw-hir!"  
  
The Marchwarden stepped cautiously back into the tent to search for the obviously distressed persons. He surveyed his tent with a hand on his hip and the other pointing at objects as he ticked them off in his mind.  
  
'Cot with missing blanket. portable chair, large moving lump of cloth, Gliriel casually brushing her hair in front of my mirror. Well, at least one mystery has been solved: Gliriel is right there. But where were Rúmil and Orophin? They would not leave her alone..'  
  
"Haw-hir!"  
  
Wait. Something wasn't right. Haldir slapped his hand to his face and drummed his foot on the floor. As he exasperatedly slid his hand down his face, his features looked like melting wax.  
  
"Do tell me that that lump of cloth is not my idiotic brothers named Rúmil and Orophin!?" He began in a light whisper and his voice rose word by word until he was practically yelling.  
  
The cloth (which Haldir recognized then as his blanket) bounced once in answer and became still. The Marchwarden took a long deep breath through his teeth and silently cursed his brothers. He hissed the breath out slowly and rolled his eyes. 'Count to ten. just count to ten. maybe twenty is a better number.'  
  
"I didn't think so; my brothers are not so stupid as to let a teenager tie them up and gag them with a blanket." He finished resolutely, answering his own question. He looked over at Gliriel who was currently admiring her long blonde hair in the small mirror hanging from a nail on a tent support.  
  
Finally, Haldir cocked his head to the side, a perplexed expression framing his features. What was that impudent elfling brushing her hair with after all? She hadn't had any belongings with her previously.  
  
"Gliriel." He called with mock sweetness in his voice. "Would that be my hairbrush you are using?"  
  
"Mm-hmm." She swiveled to see her pointed ears, and then jabbed a thumb to point at the lump that was in fact Haldir's brothers. "They wouldn't lend me theirs, so I borrowed yours." Gliriel gazed back into the mirror and ran the brush through her silky locks of cream-colored hair, just to spite the Marchwarden.  
  
Haldir couldn't have been more disgusted. That was his brush. Nobody used his brushes or combs; no one was even allowed to touch them. Haldir's lip curled involuntarily, and he strode over behind the she-elfling and grabbed the brush out of her hand.  
  
"Thanks. you could have asked to hold it though - you didn't have to grab it." She replied with some difficulty, for her lips and teeth were clenched upon a few hairpins.  
  
"You could have asked. Gliriel."  
  
"And what would you have said?"  
  
"NO!" He growled as she opened a pin - his pin- and shoved it in a lock of hair followed directly by another pin. She turned a bit in the mirror, seeing the results and annoying Haldir. Casually, as if she didn't know what she was doing wrong, she reached up towards the pins, but Haldir got there first.  
  
"Here." He shoved the brush in his mouth and roughly yanked the pins out of Gliriel's hair. His eyes widened and he stared at the soft mass of hair that showered over his hands and wrists; it felt like the cream it was colored.  
  
"How do you do that?" He questioned, awe in his voice. His hair was certainly never that soft, and he had had three thousand more years of experience in washing and hair-care. He felt instantly jealous, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.  
  
"Do what?" She ignorantly fingered the end of a thin braid before swishing around and plucking the brush out of Haldir's gaping mouth.  
  
"How do you keep your hair so soft?" He clarified quietly.  
  
This question may have seemed far below Haldir's standard, but this conversation was going exactly as Gliriel wanted; she played pranks on other people (sometimes even those she cared for) when she felt insecure or sad.  
  
"Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you completely sure, Marchwarden?"  
  
"Totally completely." He raked his fingers through the blonde locks.  
  
"Well. my secret is." She trailed off.  
  
"What?"  
  
Gliriel fought the distinct urge to smirk. He was caught like a fish. the lump of cloth in the background groaned, recognizing the trap that had gotten Rúmil and Orophin in that mess.  
  
"What is your secret?"  
  
"I wash it." She replied arrogantly. "Everyday. multiple times, usually." She stressed the words "wash" and "everyday."  
  
Haldir's eyes narrowed until he could see through a space only the breadth of a hair. a thin hair at that. He soooo wanted to smack her for insinuating that he was substandard to others in the area of personal hygiene. Haldir had never been substandard in anything. Ever. He pointed the door, "Get out."  
  
Gliriel shrugged and sauntered seductively over to the flap of the tent, knowing Haldir's eyes followed her every move. "Fine. Warden." She bowed and stepped towards the rippling tent flap.  
  
"What did you call me?" Haldir questioned quickly, his anger escalating quickly. Since she had used his title earlier, he knew that she would not slip up and unintentionally call him Warden.  
  
"Warden. I called you Warden, Marchwarden. You should get used to your new title if you plan to kick me out. that is if you even remain in the guard after Galadriel finds out that you threw me out against her orders. Remember what she said." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Gliriel shot him a broad grin; they both knew who was now in control.  
  
Haldir took a short breath and stared daggers at the she-elf. She was not even close to one-tenth of his age yet she could work him into a corner so very easily. Never had any female ordered him around with exception to Galadriel, for his whole life. Now Gliriel could push him around without using apparent force. Suddenly, thinking of Galadriel's orders, he put a hand to his heart.  
  
"I trust, Lady Rûdhedhel, that you know the location of the Lord and Lady's tent as a result of your multiple midnight escapades?" {Bald Elf} Sarcasm fitted his waxy voice like a glove, and he smirked as Gliriel had to work through what he had just said. Her grin gone, she nodded and left.  
  
When the she-elf was out of sight, Haldir walked slowly to the far corner of his tent where there were now two pairs of booted feet sticking out from under his woven blanket. With a great shove, Haldir knocked Rúmil and Orophin to the ground and proceeded to sit on their stomachs. Two huge groans were heard when Haldir leaned to the left to rotate his sword in front of himself.  
  
The Marchwarden sighed, placed his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands. "Oh, my foolish brothers, whatever am I going to do with you.?" 


	8. Master Meriadoc & Brawling

As I made my way to the Lady's tent, I passed rows upon rows of different sized and shaped tents. Some were squares, others rectangular, one was even triangular (I won't ask about the queer elf that stayed in that one), and most were twice my height. But there were two, just two that I could easily see over.  
  
Sitting in front of one of these was a little elf smoking a pipe. I say little elf because he had pointed ears, and he was in a settlement of elves, I didn't know that anyone else of a different race was here. He politely bid me good day, and inquired as to whether I had been in the party all the way from Minas Tirith. Never having heard of Minas Tirith until a few days earlier, I replied that I hadn't. I noticed there was a Rohirric sword on the ground behind him.  
  
He followed my gaze. "It was a gift from King Théoden. My name's Meriadoc Brandybuck of Buckland in the Shire, by the way. Merry's just fine though. And you would be?" He stood up, and I hid the surprise on my face when he only came up to my waist.  
  
"I'm Gliriel. It's a pleasure to meet you, Master Merry." I shook his upraised hand heartily, and said the greeting over in Rohirric, which seemed to please him slightly. Merry invited me to a thing called "elevenses," but I gratefully declined saying I had to see the Lady Galadriel.  
  
As I walked away, Merry muttered something in his cute little accent about elves having an eternity to do things, yet for some reason were always rushing. When I turned a corner I could see Merry reclining in a chair and enjoying the day and his pipe.  
  
Much like my father used to.  
  
**  
  
"I have to decide now?"  
  
"Not now, but relatively soon. Those of us from Lórien will be across the Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains, within the next week, while those headed towards Rivendell will head north and follow the Bruinen." Galadriel answered solemnly, her ice blue eyes fixed directly on mine, but she was not looking at them, she seemed to be looking through them. "Bear in mind, child, that our people, although they return to their homes for now, will soon leave Middle-earth for Valinor. As an elf, you will unhindered remain alive for thousands of years, but whether or not you go to Valinor, or even Lórien or Rivendell, is completely up to you."  
  
I nodded slowly, digesting the paragraph of names and confusing information. Giving me time to think, a few days possibly, Galadriel dismissed me. I bowed and she spoke again as I opened the tent flap.  
  
"Gliriel, do go easily on my poor Marchwarden, please." She had a strange air about her, as if she knew what I did not (she probably did), which made me feel slightly uneasy. But the smile on her face was infectious and I grinned in return.  
  
**  
  
Haldir finally got up off of his brothers as Gliriel entered. She smiled to him and impatiently waved her hand for him to move. Realizing what she meant to do, he stepped aside while pulling the blanket off of the two red- faced blonde elves. They each had the appearance of a tomato with sautéed onions as hair.  
  
Gliriel laughed melodically at them, and knelt down to pull the cloth gag from Rúmil's mouth. "Does that teach you not to force feed me sleeping potion?" She smiled and untied the rope that bound the two elves together as Haldir freed his brothers' feet. He got a swift kick in the arm from Orophin, and the Marchwarden retaliated by swatting Rúmil's leg (he got the wrong brother intentionally). Orophin sat up, and as soon as Gliriel untied his hands he wrapped an arm around her waist and threw her to the ground. She squealed and pulled him down with her, only to have him land on top of her with one knee between her legs. His long blonde hair swished and fell into Gliriel's eyes and nose and she reflexively batted it out of her face. This was only a distraction though; she smirked and her knee shot up and hit him where it hurts. Orophin rolled off of her and gasped, grabbing the affected area, and in his lapse of attention to her, Gliriel grabbed him in a headlock with a triumphant squeak.  
  
When Orophin's face again turned into a bright tomato, Haldir laughed and picked Gliriel up by hugging her stomach. She shrieked, her limbs flying wildly and was dropped onto Rúmil's stomach. Haldir then got his legs kicked out from under him by his older younger brother. Rubbing his backside, Haldir growled in mock anger and he and Orophin started brawling.  
  
When Rúmil recovered from Gliriel suddenly being dropped on his stomach, he threw her off of and jumped in his brothers' fight, having been accidentally kicked by one of them. The she-elf scowled, and pounced on Haldir, whom she believed to be Rúmil, and proceeded to pull on Haldir's long hair  
  
The four of them soon became an unidentifiable jumble of appendages, wrestling and grappling, pulling, pushing, kicking, biting, and hitting anything and everything that moved. They wrestled and scuffed about, until they became too exhausted to move.  
  
Half an hour later, Haldir, all dignity of his title of Marchwarden forgotten, ended up lying next to Gliriel with his hand on her chest where he could feel her steady breaths as she slept, and her one leg was lying limply across his own. He, though tired, felt strangely content, and there was a dreamy sort of smile on his face. A smile that only one in love or one who is extremely fatigued would wear. Maybe both.  
  
Somewhere nearby, a sleeping Rúmil held Orophin in a relaxed headlock, and Orophin's hands were in the vicinity of Haldir's neck, while Gliriel's pointed elbow was resting mere inches from Rúmil's back.  
  
Oddly enough, Celeborn chose that moment to walk by Haldir's tent and seeing what was piled on the floor, he immediately kept walking. The Lord of Lórien was not at all surprised at what he saw. He nodded in affirmation to himself, and a new sort of lilt appeared in his step as he headed towards his tent. 


	9. The Moon

Gliriel lay back with her hands behind her head as a makeshift cushion as she stared at the stars overhead. She had much to think about: at first she plotted only her next joke on the Marchwarden, but her mind turned increasingly to the decision at hand. Her family was gone, and the elves were about to leave. She knew she would have to come to a conclusion now, tonight, as soon as possible. This type of thinking was hard for her as her young mind had trouble imagining thirty years, much less one thousand.  
  
If she were truly an elf, which she had almost no doubt of now, that would mean she would have an eternity to appreciate or condemn herself to loneliness. If, a thousand years from now, when the elves are almost completely gone, would she regret staying here? Her thoughts changed to "what if I go with him?" This type of thinking was hard for her as her young mind had trouble imagining thirty years, much less one thousand.  
  
Gliriel hadn't realized that she had thought "him" instead of "them," rather her attention was brought away from the stars and round, golden moon when someone called her name. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around to see who it was.  
  
"May I join you?" The same male voice called from the ground. Gliriel had climbed the single tree on the plains of Dunland and yet was surprised that anyone had found her. Not that she didn't want to be found, she just wanted to be alone, by herself, away from the three Lórien Wardens for a time, who were not leaving her alone.  
  
She sighed. 'Well, it looks as if I didn't get my wish for time alone,' she thought after she called down to Haldir and told him yes. "But I reserve the right to kick you out if you act up." She smirked as he pulled himself up through the branches.  
  
"Fine, fine, I reserve the right of a fair warning though - your feet are painful."  
  
"No promises."  
  
Her gazed returned to the sky as he settled down next to her on the little floor of her tree house.  
  
"The moon is beautiful tonight."  
  
"Yes, very." Gliriel glanced to her right to find Haldir looking at her, not the moon. "Why do I get the feeling that you didn't come here to talk about a glowing white ball?"  
  
There was a pregnant silence and Gliriel looked back at the sky.  
  
"I couldn't find you, but I should have expected you to hide in the mallorn." Haldir stated finally, though his words were followed by another silence.  
  
"What did you call it?" Gliriel glanced sidelong at him.  
  
Haldir repeated the name and then tilted his head back to look at the stars.  
  
"Oh."  
  
They sat there, caught as any and every elf has been at one time or another, staring at the pinpricks of light in the dark blanket of sky. "My father planted this tree the year I was born." Gliriel whispered hoarsely and Haldir waited to see if she would say anything else. "I used to come up here with Gunth, my oldest brother, and we would stargaze, just as you and I are now. Sometimes, my sister Mala would come up here too, but it was usually past her bedtime." Gliriel smiled and tried to force back tears, but sniffled and gulped. "She would. she would try to name the stars." The she-elf pushed herself backwards until her back was resting on the trunk of the tree. She looked down at her dainty hands, tinted green by moonlight shining through the leaves of the trees.  
  
Haldir, knowing what words were to follow, broke in when Gliriel opened her mouth to speak again. "Our people, the Galadhrim live in tree houses, similar to this, built in the mellryn trees. some are hundreds of feet high, and thousands of years old."  
  
Gliriel continued as if she had not heard him. "Mother, a woman from Rohan, always wondered how I could spend so much time up here. Her feet never left the ground unless she had a horse beneath her. Not just any horse either, it had to be one from Rohan." She shook her head slightly to either side. "I remember many of the discussions we had, and some of the ones she had with Father, on this subject. They weren't really discussions though, it was a one sided conversation between Mother and herself, with us as an audience. But she always marveled at how quickly I could climb up here.. I never thought it much of a feat, but-"  
  
"You have always felt more at home in the tree than in that box she called a house." Haldir finished for her. Though at first insulted that he had proclaimed her home a box, Gliriel agreed that it sometimes felt that way. The tree house felt like it gave more freedom of movement, and that it wasn't as confining as having four solid walls surrounding you. Gliriel's thoughts returned to her impending decision. Haldir sensed it, and wanted to help, if he could.  
  
"Elrond and his people live near a waterfalls, having built their house on the rocks where the annoying roar of the water is ever-present."  
  
"You've been there, I take it?"  
  
"Once, and then only for a few agonizing days."  
  
"Then how did the House of Elrond fare in your high and mighty opinion, Marchwarden?" Gliriel inquired with mock innocence. She smiled in the darkness, though he could not see her. "Besides agonizing."  
  
Haldir's anger wanted to flare suddenly, but he found he couldn't get angry with her like he used to. "I found that I could not eradicate the sound of the Bruinen from my mind for many a year afterwards. No wonder that it is called Loud Water. I should go insane if I were forced to stay there longer than a few days. Alas, I miss the beauty of the Golden wood all the more.."  
  
"Thank you, Marchwarden. I will take your account into consideration." Gliriel replied, speaking with a similar tone of formality that Haldir usually reserved for speaking to the Lord and Lady. She softened as she spoke again, though. "If it is excusable, I believe that I would like to stay here tonight, as it will be my final night in Dunland, no matter what I choose."  
  
Haldir nodded stiffly, but was relieved that he would not have to camp on the ground for a third night. "Can I - "  
  
"Expect my answer in the morning?" Gliriel finished for him. "Yes," she assured quietly. "You can."  
  
Haldir placed a reluctant hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Gliriel." The Lothlórien Marchwarden stood up and walked to the edge of the flet. He jumped off, and landed with a loud thud on the ground.  
  
"I'm fine. nothing's wrong." He called embarrassedly up to a chuckling Gliriel. He walked away cursing to himself; wondering why he had fallen..  
  
After he had gone, Gliriel stood up and stretched before opening a trap door in the corner of the floor. She unfurled the rope ladder and climbed down, just as Gunther would have done not a week before. 


	10. I'll Always Be There

I wanted to walk, knowing full well that I told Haldir I was going to sleep. My paces matched a beat from a song that my mother used to sing to me as a child. elfling, I painfully corrected myself.  
  
The song was a slow, sad tune that her mother sang to her as a child in Rohan when nightmares haunted her sleep.  
  
"The night is here,  
Yet there is nothing,  
That should cause your fear,  
For I will always be here,  
To love you,  
And dispel your fear."  
  
As I neared my home, I noticed that some of the elves had been kind enough to bury my family and mark their graves. I would come back later, so I passed silently by as a shadow from the moonlight.  
  
Stepping onto the front mat, outside the doorway, I lay my hand on the cool metal handle and banged my head on the thick wood paneling, for the first time getting a splinter. I smiled, relishing the momentary pain, and hoped that it would scar, leaving a visible remembrance of my first home.  
  
Turning my wrist to undo the catch, I allowed the door creak slowly open from the sighing of the wind. I slipped through into the kitchen, pausing to find my mother's favorite knife from the cutting board. The knife was the only elven device in the house and Father had given it to mother as a wedding gift. The hilt was a dark ebony wood with thin tracings of a white metal in the form of a tree throughout. Iron was the blade, and it would never lose the razor-sharp edge like the other knives we had. I found the leather sheath my mother had roughly sewn together and slipped the knife into it.  
  
Taking one sweeping look through the small kitchen, my eyes fell to the floor. more accurately to a small, forlorn - looking black object lying near a table leg. I swooped it up, knowing what it was immediately. It was my sister's small wooden horse, the toy all four of us had played with at her age. Father had carved it when I was about three, and stained it a dark brown. I barely remember the day I had seen my father return from the barn, toy in purple-looking hands. The dye seemed to stain other things more often than wood. I, along with Gunther, Keiro and Mala had each spent hours and hours with this plaything.  
  
I forced myself to move on. The hard part was to come, and tears were already threatening to fall.  
  
I cracked open the door to my parents' bedroom, and only remained inside long enough to grab my father's long pipe and empty pouch of pipe-weed. The hobbit's face flashed through my mind, and I saw both my father and Master Merry reclining on a summer day and mulling over the best kinds of pipe- weed and other items.  
  
Stepping into the small hallway, more out of remembrance than necessity, I knocked on my brother's door. I even half imagined him to be slumped over on his chair in sleep, or lying propped up on pillows on his bed, reading his favorite book. He was strange that way. The small leather bound book I located on the shelf, and hugged it to my chest. This had also been mine, until Keiro claimed it a few years before, when Mother had needed to find more bedtime books for him. He soon would not let anything else be read to him, nor would he let me borrow my own book. A huge lump formed in my throat and my breathing became labored as I realized we wouldn't have to fight over reading rights anymore.  
  
I slipped across the hall into my room, to collect the necessary items for my impending journey. It was obvious that I couldn't stay here for very long, but I still did not want to leave. This was my home, after all. This is where I grew up. The house my father built with his two weathered hands, the rooms my mother filled with trinkets and other small meaningful things from Rohan, and the places I remembered playing with my brothers and sister. Even where I was born, though I had no memory of that, of which I am almost thankful. I must have been a terribly noncompliant toddler.  
  
A small half-smile formed on my face, and it quietly worked its magic to nearly clear away most of my sadness. Quickly, I shoved a new set of clothes in my knapsack, as well as my second favorite book, a quill and a few other personal items. Including a hairbrush. Haldir will be happy.  
  
Haldir.  
  
What was I going to do about him? I paused, my hands suspended in the air holding the bag open, like I was frozen in a winter storm. The Marchwarden had certainly been kind to me, he even treated me as an equal when we wrestled with his brothers, Rúmil and Orophin.  
  
'No, don't think of them now. Now is not the time for the Wardens, but for the life I must leave.' I reprimanded myself mentally, not daring to break the stillness inside my house, as I relinquished my diary into a pocket of my knapsack. Finally, with one last memory-filled scan of my room, I stepped out and shut the door behind me, leaving the rest of the room as I had found it.  
  
One room left.  
  
Gunther's.  
  
I bit my lip so hard that I tasted salt, and my eyes filled with tears from the thought of Gunther, not the pain. Pain did not register in my brain then.  
  
'I don't have to do this. I don't have to go in there. After all, I do have his cloak.' My mind was trying to back out, and take the easy path by not facing the pain.  
  
But suddenly, I heard one verse from my mother's song, chanted in my mind by a decidedly male voice. Never had I heard my brother sing the words from this song before. It had always been mother's to sing, though we would all follow her words in wonderment.  
  
"For I will always be near, to care for and love thee, never forget, my Beloved, I will always be here"  
  
"To love you and dispel your fear." I finished with him, our voices in a ghostly harmony in the darkness of the room. We sounded akin to the rushing of the wind through reeds near the river, or the screech of a lone owl over the plains.  
  
That did it. Tears flowed down my face in a steady stream and my voice cracked and disappeared. I opened the door to Gunther's room and tossed myself onto his bed. I don't know how long I was there, but that was the first, but not the last, time I realized that they were gone.  
  
I wept on Gunther's bed until no more tears would come, nor could another sob escape.  
  
The hardest thing I have ever done, to this day, was to leave that bed.  
  
I knew what of his I wanted to take, but I also understood that I had a limit of what I could carry. No matter how I tried, there was no way I could take his whole quilt - the quilt I made him - with me. It pained me - almost as much as leaving it there - to cut off our favorite corner.  
  
The square was of two horses galloping together across plains of long amber grass, which alone took me nearly two months to finish. Every tedious stitch and pricked finger was worth it when I saw the look on his face when I gave it to him for his seventeenth and last birthday.  
  
I knew both the horses in real life; the black one was modeled after Gunth's Coal, his favorite, while my favorite was the brown one, Maethor. My brother and I sometimes used to ride together, racing each other over dunes and hillocks in the moonlight.  
  
Finally, as the darkness began to lessen, and as a grayish-pinkish hue formed at the horizon, I shut the door to my home for the last time. It creaked slowly and sadly, as if my house knew we would probably never meet again.  
  
I slung my bag over my shoulder, the bow and quiver of arrows I carried from the kitchen whacking my knee and thigh with each step. Turning my back on my childhood home, I took my first step towards the tall tree, now many times smaller from a distance.  
  
Mallorn, Haldir called it. 


	11. Grey Cloaks and Archery Lessons

Haldir paced the flet, waiting impatiently for the she-elf to return.  
  
Where had she gone? Was she all right? What if he hadn't killed all of the wolves on. that day? Why was he caring? He shouldn't be caring. No, he definitely didn't care. Of course she was fine, she was "grown up" according to Celeborn. She could take care of herself. But what if.? Haldir hit himself in the head forcing such thoughts out of his mind. He jumped - only slightly, mind you - when a backpack was thrown onto the flet, followed by a bow and a quiver of arrows, and finally a small dainty hand. Only then Haldir relaxed. She was back.  
  
When Gliriel saw Haldir, his face lit with no distinguishable emotion or expression, she shot him a small sheepish grin, clearly hoping that it could turn his lips into a smile.  
  
She had been crying, Haldir could see that, and he frowned. It was plainly written on her face, from the red, tear-stained cheeks to the puffy eyelids, nose and lips. The Marchwarden then realized what she must have done to obtain those possessions once again.  
  
"Not one for a late sleep, Marchwarden Haldir?" Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but her mouth turned from a slight frown to a big smile, hiding all signs that she had been feeling anything else but joy. For the first time, Haldir was glad that she teased him; it obviously made her feel better.  
  
He shot her a sympathetic grin; he had had to do the same thing for himself and his brothers when his parents were killed nearly three thousand years ago. He remembered how hard it had been to take even the smallest item from his home. Haldir's eyes were not unkind as he looked upon her.  
  
"No, Gliriel, I'm not." He paused, planning his words somewhat carefully. "I daresay you haven't slept much either?"  
  
She shook her head, her hair flowing around her shoulders and down her back. "Nuh-uh." Their eyes met, and for some strange reason, neither could move from the place that they stood, not that they wanted to. Suddenly, Gliriel looked down, her breathing quick and halted from surprise. For the first time in a very long time, Haldir was lost for words.  
  
"Uh. they. umm. Lady G-Galadriel has ordered for us to begin to c-clear the campsite. She would like to hear your d-decision."  
  
Her decision. She had not thought of that since the night before, when Haldir left. Whoops.  
  
"L-Lórien, for the time being." She stuttered, quickly picking between the Rivendell and the Golden Wood; something had been pushing her towards traveling to Lothlórien, but Gliriel did not know exactly what. She had wanted to see Rivendell, though, and would have enjoyed her time there also.  
  
Haldir nodded briskly and shuffled past Gliriel towards the rope ladder, not making the same mistake of jumping off twice. He hid his smile from her.  
  
**  
  
The morning was overcast, and a light mist danced through the air in little wisps of cloud, forming drops of dew on anything and most of everything, and generally added gloom to the day.  
  
I stood next to Haldir and his brothers, somewhere near the head of the grim procession, watching the farewell between the Lords and Lady. Haldir's hand was comfortingly gripping my shoulder, somehow connecting me to this group of fair-haired elves headed east, yet eventually and finally west. But in other aspects I stood alone.  
  
Haldir's silver traveling cloak was tied tightly around his neck, his hood covering his hair and shadowed his impassive face in an unforgiving darkness. Rúmil, Orophin and the rest of the company had the same style cloak (though Haldir's was of a better quality weave, I suppose) and also bore a drawn look on darkened faces. I on the other hand, had no such silver cloak, and would not have worn it if one chanced to come into my possession.  
  
I was wearing my brother's red cloak.  
  
I was proud to wear it, even if it did stand out and draw attention to me.  
  
Earlier, Lord Elrond had generously offered to let me borrow his cloak (a two millennia-old gift from Galadriel) but I, still humiliated by the incident when I had showered him with a mouthful of wine, gratefully thanked him and promised I would take him up on the offer some other time. I thanked the Lord for his kindness - we talked for a few minutes that morning about a good many frivolous things while the others were packing the tents - and in return he gave me a hug. I believe that he understood what a choice like this was, and what it felt like to lose family and friends. Although I wouldn't hear about the decisions his family made, and will make, for a few years, I was still appreciative of his thoughtfulness and returned the hug. That gesture of care seemed to be what I needed, for afterwards I felt better than I had in days.  
  
But as we rode east towards the looming Mountains of Mist, Galadriel fell behind and let a flash of light come from her ring. I turned to look back at the party headed for Rivendell, but they were lost from even elven sight in the mists.  
  
**  
  
When we at last reached the woods of Lórien, I could feel Haldir loosen up with relief at seeing his home. He had ridden on Maethor, with me, because, as I previously stated, a Warg had killed his horse, Celeg.  
  
'The journey was long,' I thought, not knowing Haldir had heard me.  
  
'The first always feels the longest.' He replied kindly. I still was not used to this mind talking idea, and was slightly uneasy at the fact Haldir could hear my thoughts.  
  
I nodded, and he asked if I knew how to use the bow and arrows I had brought from home. This time I shook my head to the side, ashamedly.  
  
"Then you shall learn."  
  
**  
  
"Spread your feet a little bit more. good." Haldir ordered, gently nudging my heel backwards with his own booted foot, careful not to throw me off balance, for I was a rather clumsy she-elf in those days. Haldir was giving me my first lesson on how to use the bow and arrows on one of his days off.  
  
When we returned, well, in my case, got here, Haldir and his brothers immediately returned to their jobs. Haldir's main task, as Marchwarden, was to screen visitors before they had a chance to go before the Lord and Lady. He decided if they were a threat or not. I hadn't realized he and his brothers were so important until he told me of one day when an orc raiding party had entered the forest. Not a one of the beasts left the forest alive.  
  
I still played pranks on him, and occasionally was on the receiving end of a joke myself; usually involving me being precariously suspended from the edge of a flet by my feet or hair. Needless to say on every occasion after the first I wasn't that impressed, but continued to tease him anyway, and I continued to hang. I was touched, however, when Haldir offered to teach me archery during his infrequent and unreliable time off.  
  
"Now, Gliriel, move your. are you listening to me?"  
  
Whoops.  
  
"Yes."  
  
He smiled, a deep full smile that I had noticed he only showed to me, even though he knew I was lying. He was happy because I had answered in Sindarin, his first language, and which was soon going to be my own language.  
  
"Okay. Move your left hand up a little, and put more of the tension and weight on your thumb." He molded my hand in his, and I shivered suddenly at his cool touch on my skin.  
  
"What, are you cold?" He looked at my eyes from over my shoulder, a small smirk substituting for the smile on his face. He knew what caused me to shiver, and annoyingly, I knew he would try it again.  
  
"No, not cold." I shook my head, and asked what to do with my right hand. He took my hand in his and guided it to the quiver at my hip. He had me pull out an arrow, essentially a straight piece of wood with a knife blade tip and white curved feathers on the end called "fleting" or something. Why they would name an arrow after a tree house, I have yet to find out. Anyways, then, Haldir helped me line up the small groove on the end with the bowstring (three pieces of braided elf hair... mine) and he finished by forming my hand in the correct position with which to draw the arrow.  
  
He dropped his hand, indicating that I should "aim, draw the arrow back gently, and release."  
  
Concentrating hard, I followed the directions and the arrow sailed at the painted deer-hide target but missed the center circle by about two feet.  
  
"Good job." Haldir congratulated me by wrapping his arm right around my stomach and momentarily squeezing.  
  
"Hannad le." I whispered as together our hands set the bow down on a nearby table and his other hand wrapped around my shoulders, our fingers intertwined. In the three months that I had known him that was the first time either of us had made any moves on the other. But this was a consensual effort between us, and you couldn't determine with any accuracy whether he or I was the direct culprit.  
  
He layed his head on my right shoulder, and pulled me towards him by tightening his arm around my stomach. My eyes shut, and my head tilted sideways to rest lightly on his. It seemed justifiable and right that we should stand together like that. I fit perfectly into his arms, relishing the warmth that we shared, even though neither he nor I had been cold on that particular December evening, reason being that elves do not suffer from chill under normal conditions.  
  
Suddenly an elf burst through the trees covered in dirt and blood. I recognized Rúmil automatically from his quick springing gate, similar but not the same to Haldir's. Those two would be twins if not for Haldir's more confident and slightly arrogant manner, there also was the fact that Rúmil was quite a few years younger than either of his brothers. Plus, Rúmil was several inches taller than the Marchwarden.  
  
Haldir instantly released me when his brother appeared, running across the archery practice field to where Rúmil stood. He assessed his younger sibling with his keen eyes, scanning for the source of the blood with a deep scowl on his lips. He lightly poked a spot still glistening on Rúmil's left cheek.  
  
"It is not mine. but there are more orcs attacking the eastern borders." Of course, Rúmil spoke in Sindarin and I caught only a few words, such as "not mine," "orcs," and "forest."  
  
Haldir gave his brother a few commands, which I was not supposed to hear (even if I could understand what they meant) before turning and jogging back to me. Rúmil raised an eyebrow with a smirk to his brother's back before turning and fulfilling the orders. Haldir, along with missing the skeptical eyebrow, apparently failed to notice the grin that I shot back at Rúmil.  
  
"It seems, Gliri, that our lesson has been cut short. I assume we can continue some other time?" He asked, causing me to smile at the sly glint in his eyes. He cut in before I could answer (though the smile was probably enough of a response for him), his voice losing all informality as his brain switched from the undemanding courting elf to the warrior that was, by necessity, a Marchwarden.  
  
"May I borrow your bow and arrows? I seem to have left mine at my flet.."  
  
I nodded and reached for the ties for the quiver at my hip while he moved to grab my bow. I stepped behind him and refastened the leather straps around his chest and back.  
  
With a small reassuring smile, he turned on his heel and followed his brother's path through the trees.  
  
*************  
  
There are going to be about (about, mind you) 18 chapters to this story... and most likely an epilogue that I have not written yet. All of the rest of the chapters are hand-written, but not typed in yet.  
  
Please review! I would like to keep the review number equal with the actual chapter number. but first it has to get there. 


	12. Is he?

A/N:  
  
Please understand that I am trying to make Gliri a teenage "girl," who has not been in contact with anything (or anyone) but her family for most of her life. I believe that she has something of a thirteen- or fourteen-year- old's mentality (although she is in reality about eighteen years old), precisely because (a) she had no reason to grow up, not being among those that would cause her to do so and (b) in general, elves mature more slowly than do humans. At least so I have understood.  
  
Adjusting to life with sometimes overly -serious Elves was hard for Gliri, but she did that well, with the help of the three Wardens, Haldir and Rúmil mostly. Yes, she will eventually fall in love with Haldir. and, No, this is not a self-insertion by any means, it is only typed in first person with third person where it would be a little awkward to try otherwise.  
  
I really have no clue about how Gliriel would be an elf and the rest of her family mortal Men, but that is how my muse wanted to have it done (perhaps a few thousand years earlier, her ancestors were half-elves. I don't know).  
  
My writing muse is picky, they will sometimes give me a lot of a story, other days none at all. Not to mention my muse had me write this whole story in a period of seven days (7/31-8/6/03). There have been fairly few revisions.  
  
Thanks to all my reviewers!!  
  
- Alyssa  
  
**  
  
Later that day, I felt her presence in the hallway before she knocked on my door. I set down my book of Beginner Sindarin Verbs and opened the door as her hand was suspended in the air, mere inches from the silver bell pull. She raised her eyebrows slightly before smiling nervously. My head cocked to one side; I wondered what she was doing here. She and Celeborn had been teaching me Quenya and Sindarin, respectively, for the past few months, but I had already had my lesson that day. It was also not normal for either of my teachers to make a courtesy call this late in the day, Haldir might have, audacious elf that he is, but the Lord and Lady are much more courteous.  
  
I moved back to let her in, and she stepped past me to sit down in her usual chair next to my desk. With fake calmness in her motions, she picked out a book from my shelf and began reading it somewhere near the end.  
  
I sat down again, and just as the Lady pretended to read, so did I. I saw her eyes lock onto a place somewhere above the pages of the book, and her pupils dilate to black specks, making it impossible for her to focus on anything in this light.  
  
Just being around Haldir enough had made me more receptive to and observant of other's body motions and feelings. I had learned a few weeks earlier that Galadriel's eyes only dilated that much when she was either speaking with another elf mentally or when she was exceptionally worried about something. Both, it would turn out to be this time.  
  
"My Lady, I can see that there is something amiss." I stated quietly. She did not respond or even look at me, the source of the noise, although a quiver began in the pages of the book as her hands shook.  
  
"My Lady-?" I didn't finish my question, I knew by the sudden flutter of my heart in my chest that something terrible had happened. to Haldir. He was either wounded or. I swallowed loudly, not wanting to consider the other option. "W-which is it?"  
  
"He's alive. barely. He just asked for you." Galadriel replied, her eyes now wide and her voice low and fearful. She looked up at me, and her brow furrowed in sadness.  
  
"Wh-where?"  
  
"Celeborn had Haldir brought to our flet; my husband is doing his best to heal the wounds as we speak." Folding the book shut, the Lady stood up and left my room. It took me a moment to realize that she wanted me to follow. I stood up so quickly that my chair shot backwards and made a hole in the wall.  
  
I never thought that someone so calm and graceful Galadriel could move so quickly, but by the time I got to my door she was halfway to her flet. When I caught up to her, she quickened her pace and soon, but not nearly soon enough, I found myself in Celeborn's library. Galadriel beckoned me through a door in front of her, which I hesitantly went through.  
  
I realized then just how much Galadriel and Celeborn loved their Marchwarden, for they treated him as a son. Loved much more deeply than the way I had been inducted as their foster-daughter. His wounds were being tended to by Lord Celeborn alone, a much more uncommon occurrence in Lothlórien than the rare student he took on.  
  
Galadriel and I stood, supportively hand in hand, in the doorway, both of us afraid to interrupt the Lord of Lórien, former Marchwarden of Doriath (wherever that was). She and I were afraid for Haldir's life, just as much as Celeborn and Haldir's brothers were.  
  
When Celeborn finally straightened from leaning over Haldir, he glanced over at the Lady and I, an apprehensive flash in his brown eyes that was soon clouded over. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with a clean white towel from a tray of equipment at the elf's bedside. He nodded to me, giving me leave to touch Haldir. I lifted a hand to my mouth, "Is he.?" I couldn't bring myself to say the word dead, though the meaning got through.  
  
"No, he's sleeping at the moment." Celeborn assured me with a whisper as he washed his hands in a basin of water nearby. I rushed over to Haldir and grabbed his pale and cold hand. Whether or not he knew it was me, the muscles in his face loosened slightly and he sighed. Letting my eyes roam, I noticed a bandage on his other arm, and a slight swell in the sheets near his foot where his foot was bandaged, but none of these wounds would cause him to be bedridden, much less unconscious. Seeming to also have noticed this, Galadriel shot Celeborn a questioning glance.  
  
Coming back to the bedside, Celeborn pulled the sheets down from the Marchwarden's chest, permitting the Lady and I to behold the wide white cotton bandage bound tightly around Haldir's stomach. There was a thin blood-colored line across the area where his navel was.  
  
"I did my best to stop the bleeding, but the gash was deep - very deep. I stitched the skin, but there is a chance that the severed muscle will not reattach correctly. There is also another, somewhat smaller, slash on his thigh. it will take some painful rehabilitation before he is able-bodied enough to run, albeit walk again." Celeborn clarified, adding also his suspicions that Haldir, a feared warrior, had been surrounded and outnumbered by the fowl creatures.  
  
I, who hadn't been listening too closely to Lord Celeborn, instead only watching Haldir's peaceful face, nodded and sat as a chair was placed behind me.  
  
Haldir slipped back into consciousness only once in the next day, though he didn't open his eyes, it was obvious by the groans he emitted that he could feel some pain in his leg. Which apparently was a good thing. I opened his mouth and poured a small amount of pearly colored sleeping potion in, rubbing my hand on his throat to make him swallow. I hated doing that, making him go to sleep against his will, but I loathed seeing him in pain even more.  
  
I sat there for a total of three days, occasionally accompanied by Rúmil and Orophin, and sometimes the Lord and Lady. When Haldir fully awoke for the first time, he inquired after his brothers whom he had fought alongside. Oddly enough, they had left only a few minutes previous.  
  
I assured him that they were fine, and that he should return to sleep. He scowled deeply and his brow furrowed at being given an order. I don't think he recognized my voice but that was all right.  
  
He managed to let out a weak "no."  
  
"Fine. Then do us all a big favor and get up." I was shocked at the statement that came from Celeborn, but he appeared completely serious. When he entered the room I didn't sure, but it wasn't for me to ask; it still was his room, he could come and go as he pleased. I frowned at him, but the Lord placed a firm, yet gentle, hand on my shoulder.  
  
In response, Haldir slipped his hand from mine and tried to turn himself around on the bed to get up. Pain shot through his face, his eyes shut tight, though I am sure he concealed most of his suffering beneath his exterior. Point taken and learned, Haldir groaned again and leaned discontentedly back onto the satin covered down pillows.  
  
"Then do heed Gliriel's orders in the future." Celeborn finished resolutely, with the tone a parent would use to admonish a wayward child. I looked up at Celeborn, confused of what the lesson was. "The only way he has ever learned something is by pain. however regretful that may be." The lord relayed to me mentally and I nodded sadly. With a slight squeeze on my shoulder, Celeborn left the flet, quietly shutting the door behind him.  
  
"What did he tell you?" Haldir inquired grumpily, still not opening his eyes.  
  
"Well. he told me that, because of you, my Sindarin lessons have been cancelled for the time being, and that he has a ballet class scheduled in the opening." I tried to keep the jest from surfacing in my voice.  
  
Haldir snorted and grinned. "Oh, that's nice.." His hand searched for mine, and with a quirky smile and slight shake of my head, I twined my fingers in his. Opportunistic elf he was, and opportunistic elf he remains, he certainly had the pity vote then, though.  
  
I could tell he was falling back asleep, naturally this time, which in itself made even me feel better. His other hand reached across his abdomen for mine, and his breathing became much more even as his head lolled to the side.  
  
**  
  
Once, over the following week while Haldir slept, Celeborn asked me to leave. Not because Haldir's bandages were undone or some stupid reason like that, but because he had suddenly woken up much less often, seemingly getting worse. I also had not rested in well over thee days, nor had I taken in much food, much preferring to stay with Haldir at all times. Finally, Lord Celeborn persuaded me to take some rest, and Rúmil, being sympathetic to Celeborn's opinion, carried me the short-ish distance to my flet. I, being too exhausted to move, he set me on my bed and objectively changed me into a nightgown and pulled a blanket over my aching body, finally he kissed my forehead.  
  
"It is no use having you sick when you're trying to heal him, Gliri." Rúmil repeated the Lord and Lady's words as he tucked the sheets under my chin and stroked a bit of my hair. I nodded appreciatively and succumbed to sleep.  
  
Meanwhile, it seems, Haldir had woken up and was apparently disgruntled to see Galadriel sitting in my place.  
  
"Where is Gliriel?" The wounded elf asked deliriously. I didn't think he had seen Rúmil carry me away, but I'm not sure. "Is she with Rúmil now?" He made motions to get up, angered to think that his brother bore me away in his arms with other intentions in mind than to help me.  
  
He remembered the jokes his youngest brother and I would play on him and Orophin, partially because I even spent more time with the youngest Warden than with the middle or the eldest put together. That was not intentional on my part, for Rúmil, surprisingly, had the most time off, though his brothers held higher rank and seniority. I imagined Rúmil won more bets for time off than he admitted to; no wonder Haldir and Orophin were always pulling double shifts.  
  
Haldir grunted in pain as the wound on his stomach threatened to tear the stitches. again, as he was not a placid sleeper by any means. Galadriel, wanting to see his hurt stop, placed a spidery hand on his forehead, and succeeded in pulling him back onto the pillows that kept him constantly propped in almost a sitting position. She was stronger than her thin form revealed, whether or not it was the way she held herself in such a proud unassuming manner, or whether it was actually that she was more powerful than she let on to.  
  
"Haldir. Stop." The Lady commanded serenely. "Gliriel has been by your side for well over a week. She has not slept. she has not eaten. possibly for even as much as three days. And she deserves a little more credit than what you give her, you know she would never - could never - fall for either of your brothers or any other elf as she has fallen for you."  
  
That sentence hit him hard, he had not been expecting those words to come from Galadriel, and he certainly could not have realized in the state he was in that they were true.  
  
"Drink this. She'll be here when you next wake up. You have my word." Galadriel placed a cup of sleeping potion to Haldir's lips. Although he drank it under his own will, he still did not like the concept of aided sleep, and fought the effects of the draught until darkness overtook him. 


	13. Momma! Papa! Gunter! Gliri!

AN: Since I don't know how to put text in italics (somebody wanna tell me?) I put the mental stuff in asterisks ( *"blah"* ) ok?  
  
**  
  
As Lady Galadriel had promised, I was in the room when Haldir woke up. It was near midnight two days after Rúmil carried me away to sleep and that night the moon was bright and full. I was standing outside on the Lord and Lady's balcony (Haldir had not yet been moved, and I had no idea where they were staying in the meantime) bathed in clear light from Ithil, the moon. My arms were hugging my shoulders with a handkerchief in one hand. There were tears in my eyes and my nose was plugged from crying.  
  
I don't know how long he watched me stand there like that, but I know I stood as silent sobs wracked my body until the moon passed through the trees and out of sight.  
  
*"Why do you cry, lirimaer?"* He asked me telepathically. His voice in my head sounded sympathetic and caring, but hurt also, for some reason.  
  
I whipped around and stared at him for a moment before striding to his chair, picking a small book from a desk as I passed. He pushed himself up and leaned on the backboard of the bed.  
  
"Our only calendar was the moon, and my brother Keiro was born on the second full moon after harvest. He would be nine tonight." I paused and opened the book to Keiro's bookmark. "This was his." I tried to fight back the tears that wanted to fall.  
  
Haldir reached up and wiped a tear from my face with his thumb before holding my chin in his hand. I opened my eyes to see his face almost as sad- looking as mine.  
  
"I hate seeing you cry." he whispered tenderly. "Instead of thinking of what he would be, and what he could have done, think of all the things he did, and of the times you spent with him."  
  
I shot Haldir an appreciative smile, and held his hand to my face as I tried to remember a day just a few years earlier.  
  
**  
  
"Gliri! Mama! Papa! Gunter!" A little boy ran out of a brown box, almost recognizable as a barn due to its thatched roof and peeling wooden shingles. His hands were cupped in front of his chest, and his brown curls bounced in stride with his pounding foot-steps. Bright, dark brown eyes peered out from above two red dimpled cheeks, and a broad smile adorned his small mouth. He couldn't have been more than three or four years old.  
  
"Gliri? Mama? Papa? Gunter?" He called again, a tad more urgently this time. He changed direction and headed for a house where there was a girl standing under a small awning, instead of the cornfield. She was grinning almost as broadly as her brother (they were obviously related). Her hair was waist length of the same strawberry blonde tint, but her eyes were a pale green. She was tall and lanky, and obvious beanstalk. The boy ran up to her and stopped in front of the girl.  
  
"Gliri! Look! Winnie had babies!" He opened his hands to show a small ball of white and brown fluff no bigger than even his palms. Gliri knelt down onto her knees, and gently put her hands below her brother's. The kitten inside mewled gently and padded at Keiro's fingers with tiny paws. The girl smiled, showing straight white teeth.  
  
"Why don't we put him back with his mama?" She asked gently as she looked from the kitten to the boy's face. His smile shrank for a moment, but then his sister asked him to show her the rest of the babies. His cute smile returned.  
  
**  
  
There was a subdued smile on Gliriel's face when her eyes again focused back on Haldir. His hand had fallen and was being held by Gliriel's hands as if it were the kitten. He smiled to her, he had seen the memory also.  
  
"If I had to say that one of my siblings was like me, I would definitely say Keiro." She paused, and her eyes clouded over again. "He could see almost as far as I, and he was the only one of them that could beat me at a footrace." She looked back into Haldir's eyes, and a small grin formed on her lips. "You would have liked him."  
  
Haldir's signature grin also appeared. "You think so?"  
  
The she-elf nodded. "He was extremely bright, and he had your sense of humor."  
  
"And you do not?"  
  
Gliriel returned his sarcastic smirk, and casually asked him if he would like something to drink. Haldir should get some rest. although she too was also thirsty. Celeborn had left an opened bottle of red wine on the desk nearby. Gliriel then decided that a little wine couldn't hurt him.  
  
"If you would be so kind." The bedridden Marchwarden answered courteously. He could see right through her pitch though, and had to be considerate of her motives. He had no intention of returning to sleep quite yet, he wasn't in the least bit tired, and he had slept most of the last two weeks.  
  
Gliriel stood and sauntered over to where the Lord of Lórien had left the wine and set down her brother's book on the desk. With some trouble, she managed to pull the cork from the bottle and a faint pop resounding in the still night air. Nonchalantly, she turned her back to him, and slipped a small amount of sleeping draught into what was going to be Haldir's goblet. She then poured herself a glass (obviously free of potion) and carried them over, back towards Haldir being extra careful to note which one was hers, and which one wasn't. She smiled sweetly - too sweetly, in Haldir's opinion - and handed him his glass. She sat down and made the distinct mistake of watching him apprehensively over the rim of her glass as she took a sip.  
  
Haldir put the glass to his lips and saw the pearly coating on the top of the wine. He tilted the glass, but pressed his lips tightly shut, permitting none of the liquid into his mouth. He cast his mind about, looking for a way to get out of drinking this.  
  
"Your brother's book. may I see it?" He inquired, remembering just in time that she had left it on Celeborn's desk.  
  
Not suspecting a thing, Gliriel set down her glass on the bedside table - easily within Haldir's reach - before she stood up to fetch the book. In the few seconds while her back was turned, Haldir took what might be his only opportunity and replaced his goblet with hers, careful to place it in the exact spot on the wicker table that she had, lest she notice the exchange. He smirked, in love with the sheer brilliance of his hastily planned design.  
  
When Gliriel returned with Keiro's leather bound book, she handed it to him, receiving thanks from the elf. He took a sip of her wine to conceal the mischievous grin on his face. Gliriel again sat back down and took a mouthful of the tainted wine before setting it down on the wicker table again.  
  
The draught took effect almost instantaneously. She fell forward - effectively unconscious - onto Haldir's stomach. He too had taken a mouthful of wine, and nearly had to spit it out when her head landed on the cut on his abdomen.  
  
But, then as the pain subsided, his mouth furled into a prim, triumphant smile as he let out a chirp of happiness.  
  
He had not lost his adept ability to make she-elves faint.  
  
Haldir sighed. "Perfect," he whispered. He had - for the moment anyway - a new book, a glass of his favorite red wine, and Gliriel unable to strike back for his trick.  
  
Well. Almost perfect. The wine would run out, and, most unfortunately, the she-elf would awaken, and she would definitely not be in the best of moods. He was confident she would retaliate harshly and quickly. Remember what she did to his brothers for giving her a sleeping draught? They ended up bound and gagged under a blanket.  
  
He sighed again. "Oh well, enjoy it while you have it." Haldir, a small grin still pasted on his lips, opened the book to the first page with one hand and began casually stroking Gliriel's silky blonde hair behind her pointed ear, lapsing in concentration only to sip a vintage merlot.  
  
*  
  
Once, when the sun began to peek over the horizon, the Lady of Light snuck into her bedroom to choose a dress for the day from her closet, fully expecting Gliriel to be dozing lightly, slumped over in a chair next to Haldir's temporary bed, and the Marchwarden himself, soundly, and most likely enchantedly under a thin cotton sheet.  
  
She certainly did not expect to see Haldir the one who was lightly dozing and have Gliriel fast asleep with her head on his stomach, a book in one of his hands, and the other hand embedded in Gliriel's hair.  
  
Galadriel cleared her throat, causing Haldir - who had been previously unaware of her presence - to drop the book to the bed and put on a (fake) innocent face. The Lady of Lórien padded quietly to his bedside and raised a suspecting eyebrow at the empty and full glasses on the nightstand. She gingerly picked the fuller of the two up and held it in front of her face, observing the pearly coating on top. She shook her head and glanced sidelong at her Marchwarden, a small disbelieving smile dancing on her lips. Haldir understood the questioning gaze, and put his hands up to his cheeks in defense.  
  
"I had nothing to do with this, My Lady. She simply drank from the wrong glass." This had to be one of the first times he lied openly to her. He smirked, seeing the understanding grin the Lady gave him.  
  
Galadriel walked away shaking her head and had forgotten all about the dress. Before her head disappeared through the doorway, she stopped and glanced back at him.  
  
"I wonder who would have switched the glasses, Marchwarden Haldir." 


	14. Yes! No!

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long. I have been busy with basketball tryouts.  
  
*"blahty-blah"* = mental speech  
  
**  
  
Squnch. gurgle. Squish. Squnch. gurgle. Squish.  
  
Such was the sound that filled my ears. That, coupled with the raspy sound of calm breathing, and the faint thump of a heartbeat, which I realized matched my own. but how could my head be on my stomach? That was physically impossible. Then I felt the coarse fabric of a bandage on my cheek, and a hand - not my own, mind you - stroking my hair and pushing it past my sensitive and pointed ear.  
  
Haldir.  
  
What should I do to him in return? I knew he tricked me somehow, I just couldn't remember how. just that I wouldn't naturally sleep like this..  
  
I couldn't do anything while asleep, and he knew that, so why not let him think that I am asleep just for a while longer? It would be hard, for every time he would touch my ear, my spine would tingle unbearably.  
  
My hand, which had been dangling off of the bed, snaked up under the covers and jabbed him in the stomach, right where I knew the edge of the stitches were, while my other hand lay limp on the bed next to him. He gasped and his hand flew from my head to catch my fist, which had balled up, and was about to punch him again. I heard something light fall to the bed. Keiro's book. My eyes narrowed and a deep frown lined my face.  
  
"Now, Gliri, don't be angry with me." He squeezed my fist, pried my hand open with his thumb and clasped his fingers in mine. "It was for the best."  
  
"For the best? FOR THE BEST!?" My head shot up, and a wave of nausea hit me so instantly I knew what he had done. I had to retaliate, though I'm sure the punch was a "good blow." My time would come, though. If there were five things that living in close contact with Haldir for two months had taught me, waiting for the perfect opportunity to even the score had to be one of them.  
  
I took a deep breath to slightly compose myself. "Angry? How can I not be angry? You switched our drinks and completely threw away my trust."  
  
He feigned a hurt look, but answered with a "yes, and your problem lies where?" scoff. Meaning, essentially, that I was awake again, so why was I angry? There was the cutest smile on his lips, as if he were an elfling who had just received his first set of bow and arrows. Also, there was an unfamiliar - at the time - glint in his eyes that he had had when he left my archery lesson and gotten himself into all of this mess. I don't know how I let my countenance melt, but he had to be the most adorable thing I had ever seen. I shook my head and a drunken-like grin appeared on my face for a moment.  
  
"I can't stay mad at you. and you know that. you. you great twit! It's not fair. I poked his chest with my free hand, and before I could move, he had caught it in his other hand. He clasped it just like my other hand. Stupid Lothlórien guard training! They're all too fast!  
  
"Let me go." I tried to pull a hand away.  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes! Or. or I'll force-feed you the rest of that sleeping draught! All of it!" I struggled against his hands, yet my strength was not match for his, even when he was at a distinct disadvantage by being bed ridden.  
  
He grinned again. "Now, do you really think that that is any decent incentive for me to let you free?" Grinning broader than before, he squeezed my hands just to show he was in control. My eyes narrowed again, but I stopped resisting. While I glared at him, he laughed! Laughed, I tell you! He succeeded in making me want to hurt his elf butt so badly. But, given my current situation. I couldn't.  
  
"You arrogant, self-centered, outrageous, greedy, haughty elf!" I yelled at him. He nodded to each of these terms (with no shame, I might add), that annoyingly charming grin still plastered between two dimpled cheeks.  
  
Suddenly, he flung his arms straight out to his sides, pulling me towards him and kissed me. I don't mean a gentle fatherly kiss on my forehead, or a courteous yet friendly peck on the cheek, but an all out mouth on mouth kiss! I was so shocked that I didn't fight, but otherwise found it quite. likeable. I even surprised myself when he let my hands go and I didn't pull away, and instead relaxed onto his chest.  
  
When we stopped, I reluctantly pushed myself back onto my chair - my hands shaking enormously, and my heart was fluttering uncontrollably - and Haldir only smiled. Not that smug "I-am-more-powerful-than-you-and-in-control" smirk, but a quaint "I-enjoyed-that-and-don't-even-try-to-deny-that-you-did- to" smile.  
  
I looked away from him, shook my head and rolled my eyes, but could not suppress the "you're-right" grin that escaped my flushed lips. I sighed, but continued to shake my head. That was my first real kiss, and I honestly had expected something a little more romantic, especially from Haldir. Not that that wasn't nice - because it was.  
  
His hand found its way to my leg, and gripped my knee. Still not looking directly at him (I honestly didn't know if I could trust myself), I slipped my fingers under his and clutched his hand.  
  
"Galadriel was right."  
  
This caused my head to flick around to see that he had been staring at me and he smiled again seeing me look at him.  
  
"Galadriel was right about what?"  
  
He now looked confused at my question. I could not normally read his thoughts, only the ones he would send me intentionally. And although this is not as much the case anymore, his eyes remain an undecipherable mystery to me.  
  
Without answering, he suddenly withdrew his hand from my leg, and his gaze snapped to the now opening door. Celeborn peeked in before entering with Rúmil and Orophin in tow, with each Warden carrying a small plate of fruit, bread, and another glass of wine for our (my and Haldir's) breakfast. Both of us were famished, so Haldir and I helped ourselves to the plates of strawberries, blueberries and Lembas. His brothers sat on the opposite side of the bed from me, whereas Celeborn leaned on a tree branch that, over the ages, had been allowed to grow into the room.  
  
"I thought we could try walking today." Celeborn proposed carefully as he eyed the nearly empty bottle of wine on the desk. Haldir, I'm sure, looked slightly surprised, but Rúmil and Orophin made no response, giving me the impression that they had been briefed on this already, and had acclimated to the idea. I, too, was astonished; it seemed to be too soon to ask Haldir to try to walk.  
  
Not being able to pass up the idea of a surprised looking Haldir, I looked sidelong at him. To my surprise, he was staring innocently at a strawberry, and I nearly gagged on a piece of dry Lembas at what he mentally told me.  
  
*"Celeborn only wants to have his own room back. I wonder why."*  
  
When I saw his face after he said that, I did choke. He seemed not in the slightest way affected by what he utttered, and took a dainty bite of the berry suspended by its leaves in his fingers. I could never have pulled off a line like that and not died of laughing afterwards.  
  
I started giggling, then Haldir copied my giggle causing me to laugh harder, then he started laughing, and soon we were laughing at nothing but our own foolishness.  
  
Having heard me choke, Celeborn glanced at me, then to the wine glasses on the table (the one was still full), and finally to Haldir's perplexed looking brothers. I am sure the three of them speculated as to why Haldir and I were laughing so hard in the presence of alcohol (though most elves do not feel the effects until we are terribly inebriated), but it does not matter, for what Haldir said will remain between the two of us forever.  
  
When the Marchwarden and I had calmed and eaten our fill, the Lord of Lórien asked me to leave the room for a moment. I reluctantly obliged, but Orophin guided me from the room by my shoulders. With an apologetic pat on my arm, he shut the door in my face.  
  
After a few unbelievably long minutes Celeborn opened the door, and stepped back to let me pass. Haldir was sitting on the edge of the bed, clothed in a white tunic and loose leggings (so that's why they wanted me out of the room) but he was barefoot. I smiled, never before having the opportunity to see his feet - without the leather boots he always made sure were shined - which were undeniably cute.  
  
Now, really, what has changed about me to make me think these sorts of things? When I first met Haldir. I wanted to kill him - not that I ever would have. I just would have never called his feet (or anything about him) cute.  
  
And most certainly not his feet.  
  
Anyway, Haldir's brothers were seated on either side of him, their hands and arms all behind one another's backs. The three blonde heads were very sweet together like that, the image made me smile again. I looked over at Celeborn who seemed to be seeing the same picture as I.  
  
"On three." Orophin suddenly called to his brothers, silently gearing up to have at least a third of Haldir's weight added to his own. Haldir was, and is, no light elf. He may be tall and thin, but is all muscle and no fat.  
  
"One. two. three-ee. arg.!"  
  
I bit back a laugh. Rúmil had shot up on two pulling Haldir's right arm, and Orophin stood up after three with Haldir's left arm.  
  
But, surprisingly, the sandwiched Marchwarden managed to travel a few feet across the floor suspended between his brothers, only wincing once when they had to turn around.  
  
**  
  
This is totally unrelated to the chapter here. should I make Gliriel's family a band of traveling merchants, where her "family" is at least larger? So it would seem a little more plausible for her to feel sad about "killing them?"  
  
The reason I'm asking is that I realized that the book said somewhere that no one "lived" on the plains of Dunland, and then I noticed that I had them permanently living there. 


	15. His Mother's Necklace

For nearly a fortnight afterwards, these proceedings would continue; Rúmil and Orophin and on occasion Celeborn would appear a few times each day to help Haldir regain his much-loved mobility. One night near the end of Girithron (December), in particular, is engrained in my memory (and Haldir's also, I'm sure) - and no, not for reasons you might think.  
  
I was standing on Galadriel and Celeborn's balcony watching the stars blink and shine when I suddenly felt a pair of cool hands sneak under my hair and a set of arms wrap gently around my shoulders. I was surprised, and yet not, to feel Haldir doing this, for I had suspected that he could walk well enough on his own for nearly a week and not need his brothers' aid. Although, the feeling of being snuck up on never goes away, especially at night. I shivered, but held the arms around my neck as he gently leaned his weight on me, still not able to fully support himself for very long.  
  
"It is not kind to sneak up on people at all hours of the night, Marchwarden Haldir," I whispered as I buried my nose in the wrinkles of the fabric of his nightshirt near his elbow.  
  
"It is not kind to be so beautiful so as to tempt others to do so, Lady Gliriel." He nuzzled his face in my hair and blew into my ear, sending another shiver up my spine. "Happy birthday," he whispered huskily before planting a small, quick kiss on my cheek. He took a small step backwards, and when I turned around, I felt a jewel dangle onto my chest. I reflexively reached up and held the stone in my fingers, hoping to see it better in the waning moonlight.  
  
"It was our mother's." Haldir commented, meaning his and his brothers' mother. "You make it look more beautiful than she did." He put a hand on my arm.  
  
Ironically, a tear ran down from my other eye, leaving a path that glistened in the white moonlight. Parting with such a treasure must be unbearable.  
  
"But I'm not parting with it. I will see it every day for eternity." He took a slow step closer to me, reaching up with his other hand to wipe the tear from my face while his other hand trailed down from my cheek to my neck, then shoulder and arm to my hand. "Each morning, I will wake up and see its beauty shine, paled in comparison only by your smile." Haldir smiled and rested his forehead onto mine. I leaned into his hand, and he gently put his other hand behind my neck, rubbing the pressure point behind my earlobe with his thumb.  
  
I looked deep into his light blue eyes, and felt like I was accepted for the first time in a long time. Like I was. loved.  
  
But I knew that that feeling couldn't last.  
  
I stepped away from Haldir and unclasped the necklace from my neck., I pressed the jewel into his hand, all the while not bearing to look at his face. "I cannot accept this Haldir. I'm so, so sorry." I fled the talan. Confusion would be on his features, before the anger would seep through his skin and the frown would set in.  
  
I wanted nothing more than to spend eternity with him, believe you me. But marrying him would mean accompanying him to Valinor and escaping my family. both were things I could not do. Would not letting new love into my heart edge out all of the love I was trying so hard to remember and keep close?  
  
Every night I had slept since I went there (except for the instance where I had fallen asleep on Haldir's stomach), I had dreamt of my family. Nearly every moment I was sleeping, one member or another would approach me and blame me for their death. It was senseless to believe them, I know, but I was young and naïve, I would have believed anything.  
  
"What would have happened if you had not disobeyed my wishes - my orders - and had instead stayed home?" My father would scream as he beat me with more than just words.  
  
Mala, my small sister, would cry and beg for life, while Keiro would show me glimpses of our life when we were grown ups, and neither of us were elves. Mother would cry and shriek at me that she disowned me, and that she wished that I were never born.  
  
Gunther was always the worst; he would show me the quilt and then simply ask "why?"  
  
"But Gliriel, what would have happened had you stayed?"  
  
I found myself now on my own flet, yet having no idea how I got there. Much to my bemusement, Galadriel was seated at my desk and was staring at me intently, obviously expecting an answer to her question.  
  
"We would all be together in one place or another," I replied deftly.  
  
"You know that that is not true. Even now Keiro is not with your parents and other siblings. He resides in Mandos with all of the other elves that have ever passed from this world. You would have made that journey with him." She corrected, her voice as calm as ever.  
  
"I could not leave them here, not even if I could go to Valinor."  
  
"You, however unlikely the circumstances may have presented, are one of the Firstborn. Valinor is open to nearly all of that kindred, even those who betrayed it long ago are welcomed." She meant herself, giving the example that she had committed graver sins than I, and was eventually going to return home.  
  
"Yet I could remain here, keeping the thought in mind that I could go there."  
  
"You speak words that belie your age. Your mind is in turmoil. Does not your heart know what to do?"  
  
"My impulsive heart has killed before."  
  
"It certainly is now, then. Think of how Haldir must be feeling at being rejected by you." When I spluttered something about this, she added something then kept going. "Of course I know about the two of you. It is obvious by the looks in your eyes. But, that is against the point. I care about my Marchwarden very much, and as you can see, so does Celeborn. We both want to see him happy, while we both know that that is not currently possible. His heart is now split four ways. His brothers are going to remain here with Celeborn until he sails on the last ship, while evermore he himself yearns for the green fields of Valinor, where there is no suffering or pain. I have lingered here too long; my whole being feels the pull of the West. Haldir would follow my fëa to Mandos if it came to that. Now, with the two of you like this, he knows he will find rest nowhere that his body resides if you also remain. I do not know if he would come with me."  
  
I couldn't help but cry. "Then tell him - order him - to go with you! Tie him to your wrist with Hithlain! I cannot leave my family." I pulled my bag from under my bed and began packing my few possessions I owned into it. I could not stay here either - not while Haldir did; Lórien was fast becoming a prison. A checklist ran through my head: Mother's knife, father's pipe, Mala's wooden horse, Gunther's quilt. something was missing! I racked my brain.  
  
Keiro's book. I had left it in Haldir's room.  
  
"If that is what you wish." Galadriel sounded resigned, both knowing and ignoring the fact that I was missing something.  
  
I hesitated, my hands floating in the air above my bag still clutching a shirt. "N-Yuh-Yes. That is what I wish." The shirt dropped in the empty space of the bag.  
  
Galadriel's eyes followed me out of the room when I grabbed my cloak from a tree-branch. I flew down the three-hundred-something steps to the ground and ran in the direction of the borders of the forest. I don't know how I made it past the guards, but somehow I did.  
  
With one last shuddering but still steadying breath, I turned in the direction of the mountain pass through which we came. 


	16. You Aren't Coming, Are You?

Within a few months if my departure, many of the remaining elves left Lothlórien and Rivendell. Or most left, I should say. Celeborn, Rúmil and Orophin, as well as a Rivendell elf named Beriadil would stay behind. of course they weren't the only ones, just those that deserved mention.  
  
One Moon-cycle earlier, in August, I visited the Grey Havens in a place called Lindon. There I meet more Teleri elves (Círdan, even for being old, has a great sense of humor) although I would not travel on the ships with the Ringbearers. It was not my time. if my time would ever come. I just didn't feel I wanted to leave.  
  
I stayed with a nice family for most of the month of September (relations to Haldir, I believe) until sometime near the night of the full moon when a large party came of elves from the East. from the Shire. I knew, in my heart, that he was with them. I could feel him there; I could sense his mild fear about leaving me behind, but also his happiness that he was finally departing.. He had lived in Middle-earth for nearly four thousand years. an amount of time still unimaginable to me.  
  
I stood among a crowd of Teleri as they approached, my red hood hiding my face in a pleasant darkness. I watched the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel dismount their horses and speak with Círdan; Celeborn would ride east later after watching his love sail. Nearby Lord Elrond helped a stiff hobbit dismount from a grey pony, while another two hobbits watched the commotion of the port with wide eyes. Somewhere behind the six of them I could sense Haldir, and I sharply gasped as he rode into view. He swung off of Maethor and landed gracefully on the ground, all hints of his former injury gone.  
  
His eyes scanned the Falathrim, falling heavily on me when he spotted my hood; who else would need to hide their face? I reached a hand up and the cloth of my hood fell; my hair spilling like water around my shoulders, and he beamed upon seeing me. I realized how much I really. luh. liked his smiles.  
  
I suppressed the urge to run into his arms, and let him carry me to the ship, but only barely. As he came closer, I stepped back, as did the group of Falathrim allowing us our space.  
  
I felt his arms clasp behind my waist as he pulled me into a tight embrace. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder.  
  
"I've missed you.." he whispered quietly in my ear.  
  
"And I you.." I took my arms from his neck and looked sadly up at him as he took my hands in his. I chanced a peek at his glowing emotion-filled ice- blue yet silvery eyes, but could not hold his gaze for long. I knew he understood what I couldn't put in words.  
  
"You aren't coming, are you?" He asked me mentally, his voice echoing through our minds.  
  
He knew I couldn't avoid his questions, and I shook my head. "My place is not in Valinor."  
  
"Then I will stay with you my. my l-"  
  
"No." I freed a hand from his iron but still gentle grip and put a finger on his lips. "Don't make it harder than it is. you have to go."  
  
"I can't deny my feelings for you.."  
  
"I don't want you to."  
  
"Then why make us both suffer for eternity?"  
  
I couldn't answer this. I still can't to this day. I intently studied the ground and felt surprised when something was pressed into my hand. He curled my fingers around a cool object, making sure I would keep the treasure he bestowed upon me.  
  
His mother's necklace. I knew without even looking at it.  
  
Not being able to resist, I opened my hand and peered at the shining jewel glinting in the sun. It was a sapphire, cut into a teardrop shape with silver traced down the facets of the gem and a silver chain.  
  
"Amin hiraetha. I'm sorry. I can't take this. I can't let you leave this.." I tried to return it to his hand.  
  
"Gliriel, it was a gift. keep it." He curled his fingers around mine again, and a tear threatened to fall from my eye. "Lirimaer, lovely one, if I cannot have you, then I want nothing more than to think of you with it. No matter how long it means for me to have to think that." He whispered, holding my chin and forcing me to look at his eyes. Quickly he planted a kiss on my lips, sending a chill through me, a realization, almost. Haldir then abruptly turned and his long legs carried him aboard the great white ship, my heart reached towards him, but he would not accept my thoughts or apologies.  
  
I watched the plank being hauled up and the moorings cast off. Haldir's proud head disappeared as he descended a flight of stairs.  
  
I realized then, when the ship first left port - when it had moved just a few inches - how terrible my decision was, how utterly and heart- wrenchingly cruel I had been to both of us. And I couldn't take it back. 


	17. The End

Groan. "Five more minutes."  
  
"No." Somebody pulled on my arm.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Gliriel!" The person snapped.  
  
"Whuh?" I shot up and whacked my head on the wood of the bunk about me causing me to rubb my soon-to-be egg, and blink hard to clear the sleep from my eyes. I heard another groan from above me, signifying I had woken Rúmil up again by hitting my head on the bottom of his bed.  
  
The person who had grabbed my arm to wake me soon shuffled over to the window and flung the shutters open, my hands flying in front of my eyes to block out the light of the sun reflecting on the ocean. Rúmil and I both groaned and fell back onto our backs, refusing to wake up.  
  
"Come on, you two! Don't make me throw water on you like I did yesterday. We're here. Up you get, up! UP!"  
  
"Well, we can't be any other place than here, can we?" I grumbled sarcastically causing Rúmil to snort.  
  
"You're always the early riser, Phin, Let the lying elves lie." Beri (short for Beriadil) murmured good-naturedly but tiredly from across the cabin, accruing mumbled assents from the other two late sleepers.  
  
SPLASH.  
  
"OROPHIN! You - " Rúmil started.  
  
"It wasn't me!" He yelled back. "They tossed anchor!"  
  
"WHAT???" I shot up again, also hitting my head on the wooden bunk this time. My eyes opened wider than ever before, and I had to blink hard to get rid of the salt from the water. I burst out laughing when I saw Orophin, though.  
  
He was drenched; having been standing in front of the window (they told us to call them portholes. I liked window better.) when the wave came in. His hair, clothes and face were dripping wet, and he had the look of a cat who had unexpectedly been pulled onto a small child's lap and was now being manhandled.  
  
The other three of us were no drier, just suddenly and momentarily in better spirits than Orophin, who now was blabbering nonsense.  
  
"So, brother.?" Rúmil hopped off of his bunk and landed with a splash next to Phin. "You got us soaked like you intended, now where's our coffee?" Rú, always the joker, wrapped an arm around Phin's neck and shoulders and shook him slightly, causing drips to rain from his hair, nose and fingertips.  
  
Beri laughed as she wrung out her long, waist length chestnut hair. I stood up, shaking my head, and attempting to do a few stretches. By now, I had gotten used to the gentle rocking of the ship and my knees adjusted automatically to the cyclical tilting of the hull.  
  
"What did you want to tell us that was so important a moment ago?" I asked as I stood on one foot, my hand holding my leg straight out to my side.  
  
"Something with 'we are here,' if I guess correctly." Rúmil deducted.  
  
"WHAT?" Beri and I yelled, suddenly rushing to the window, and squeezing to get to look out first.  
  
"Finally." Beri turned and did a dance around Ru and Phin, singing, "We're here! We're here!"  
  
There was a knock at our doorway, followed by Celeborn looking in on us. He smiled, lost the battle with a snort, and then burst out laughing. We had to have been quite a site, I admit, and I don't blame Celeborn for laughing. There was about an inch of water in our cabin (held in by the ridge on the floor under the door) with rivulets of sea-water falling every- so-often from the ceiling and plinking into the puddle collected on the floor. Orophin still had not moved and the shock on his face was still evident (he had ever been a fan of remaining dry). Rúmil had one arm around Phin's neck and his other hand was in the process of patting Phin's chest reassuringly. Beri, at Celeborn's intrusion, had frozen in what looked to be a very awkward position; one arm over her head, and one leg kicked out to the side so that she looked strangely like a brooding hen. And then there was me. I was hanging halfway out of the window with a look of awe on my face. Of course the four of us were sopping wet and dripping saltwater from everywhere possible.  
  
I really would have laughed also, had I not been transfixed with the view of the land outside. There were green rolling hills and, in the distance, mountains. Or, at least they looked like mountains; I couldn't tell the difference between the mountains of cloud and the mountains of rock.  
  
Valinor.  
  
"Gliri?"  
  
I spun around, aware of a hand on my shoulder. Had I known it was Celeborn, I would have been a little more formal with my speech. but then again, maybe not. "Huh?"  
  
"Tollen I lû." {It is late.} Celeborn repeated over the flurry of three other elves.  
  
I shot him a gratified smile. "Hannad le." {Thank you.} I deftly started shoving my few possessions in the small bag I brought. When I ran out of space, I pushed up the mattress and baseboard from my bunk bed to reveal the storage space underneath. I then grabbed my larger bag (already nearly filled with clothes and my brother's whole quilt) as Rúmil grabbed his from beside mine. As soon as we had finished, we lined up at the door, ready and raring to go.  
  
The next half-an-hour was a mess of blissful confusion and excitement. We walked down a large board - a plank - onto the docks where some elves immediately dropped hastily packed bags to run to loved ones, whom they had not seen in one hundred twenty years. or even longer.  
  
Orophin jogged off in the direction of one blonde she-elf, who kissed him passionately. Rúmil sauntered off in some direction hand-in-hand with Beri.  
  
After Celeborn and a few others had done so, I hugged Galadriel (she had come to see her husband's arrival) before she introduced me to her brother and her father. I was amazed not only by their familial resemblance, but their majesty. their power.. Next (after I could stop staring), I spoke a few courteous words with Elrond who told me what I asked in return for a small bit of information about what had happened in Middle-earth.  
  
Like I requested, Haldir had not been told I was coming (I do not think he knew of his brothers' arrival either, frankly) and he had not come to see the arrival of the last ship. I thanked Elrond immensely for not letting Haldir hear of our coming, and wished him to have a good day.  
  
I slung a bag over my shoulder, and my feet seemed to follow where my heart dictated, to where I knew Haldir was. This was an odd feeling to experience, knowing that he was near. Down this street, around a corner, past these trees. here. I took a deep breath.  
  
Not even bothering to knock - and I knew that there was no bolt on the door - I pushed the door open, praying that it would not betray my presence and creak. I stepped silently though, careful so that even Haldir, with his ears trained for being a Marchwarden, could not hear me.  
  
I stepped through a small hallway - astonished that he had ever adjusted to live in anything but a tree - to find him bent over something at a desk. I leaned a bit to the left to see what it was under his intense scrutiny. I saw a few tattered pages of paper, and a small brown leathery cover, a book.  
  
Keiro's book.  
  
I was touched, to say the least. I couldn't believe that he had kept it even after all these years.  
  
I gathered my courage to break the silence, and speak to him. I didn't want to, he was so. beautiful. The arch of his back, his flowing blonde hair, the slow even breaths he is sure to take every few seconds. I hadn't realized in a long time how much I had missed him. Momentarily, I remembered his feet, how I had thought that they were cute. I grinned.  
  
I let my bags fall and crash onto the floor from my shoulders. "Have you become so idle in these recent days to not even come to the docks to see the last ships arrive? It seems you've missed picking something up."  
  
Haldir spun around so quickly in his chair that he seemed to forget that there was a leg to the desk, and he hit his knee. I smiled as he cursed lightly and rubbed the affected joint, even his whispered voice was a wonderful experience to me.  
  
He stood up, and quickly limped over to me. Holding my shoulders at arm length, he looked me up and down, I'm sure he was checking to see that I actually made the journey, and was not just a dream. I looked carefully into his face, and saw the fatigue that I did not see on any other. He then abruptly pulled me into a rib-crushing hug.  
  
"You're more beautiful than I remembered." he whispered hoarsely in my ear. I couldn't trust myself words, and only stroked his hair as we both shed tears of joy.  
  
"I thought you said you weren't coming." He apparently holds grudges. I don't blame him for this one.  
  
"I'm here now."  
  
With one last squeeze, he pulled back and gently stroked his fingers down my jawbone. "I've missed you so much.." He whispered.  
  
I took his hand from my cheek and kissed his fingertips. "I'm so, so, so sorry. I should never have left Lórien that day.."  
  
"It doesn't matter.." He gave me a reassuring smile and took my other hand. Our gazes met, and I knew that I had already been forgiven for the hurt that I had caused him, caused us.  
  
"I love you." He smiled again, leaning his forehead onto mine, his hand snaking around my waist. "I have waited so long to say that."  
  
"And I love you."  
  
Finis  
  
AN: I will write an epilogue. as soon as my muse comes back from vacation. Well, at least when Basketball is over. prolly sometime in January. but until then, this is the end! Look for me in the Silm. section sometime in the next few months, also! 


	18. Epilogue

Hey everybody! I'm so glad you liked my story. I really am! I'm posting this now - something I wrote last night - so that there is an epilogue. I don't see myself having much time to write much over the next few months. basketball is dominant over fanfiction. sorry. I love writing. but just can't visualize having the time to do so. Watch out for sporadic chapters of a new Silm Fic I started in September, though, possibly! It's about my favorite elf's father, Fingon. possibly a Maglor fic too. These would be already written down/ in my head. so. until then! Off to basketball I go!  
  
That whole spiel thingie was from November, gosh. Now it's January. Anyway, I have another fic idea in my head. whoohoo. It's about Elladan (a het romance, btw). and a few other Nuzguls bouncing around my house. them buggers have teeth!  
  
Please tell me if you like this. I will hope to find time to fix it to how the readers like it!  
  
Text with asterisks is stressed / mental speech.  
  
*  
  
One evening nearly two hundred years after I arrived in Valinor, while Haldir and I were washing and drying the dishes from dinner, there was an abrupt and loud knock on our front door. Haldir gently rubbed my shoulder, looking in that direction, quietly relaying to me that he would answer it. Tossing his towel over the top of a chair, he cracked open the door to see who was waiting outside. We had not been expecting visitors that particular night, although lack of a planned meeting had never stopped one of Haldir's siblings from barging in (I mean stopping by) before. though they never knocked.  
  
I heard someone ask for me - someone whose voice I didn't recognize - and so I peeked around the wall towards the front door, dish and towel in my hands. When I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, I dropped the ceramic plate onto the ground in shock and it proceeded to break. Over someone's shoulder, I saw that Haldir had been shoved to the side, and was looking quite flustered as he saw me in another elf's embrace.  
  
"I missed you so much, Gliri!" The stranger whispered into my ear. I still had no idea how he knew me, much less how he could have missed me. As soon as possible, I stepped away from his arms, and backed into a wall. He looked hurt as I gave him a confused look.  
  
The elf standing in front of me was tall and lanky - much like I was at what must be his age - and he had long blonde hair coupled with green eyes. He did look quite a lot like myself.  
  
"What, don't you recognize me?" He took a step forward, his hand extended towards my face. Unfortunately for him, though, this action had pushed Haldir too far. Much to my relief, he picked up the young elf by the scruff of his neck and tossed him onto a chair.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't. I'm sorry." I replied, taking Haldir's hand as he offered it to me for comfort. "What is your name?"  
  
"My name here is Galrilion."  
  
I looked up at Haldir's eyes; ignoring the gawky stare that so-called Galrilion gave our hands. *"I don't know anyone by that name."* I shrugged.  
  
"How do you know Gliriel?" My husband questioned.  
  
"How do *you* know her?"  
  
Haldir's eyebrow's raised. Very few had ever been cheeky to him. I was one of them. I squeezed his hand and leaned onto his arm. With a proud voice, Haldir answered. "She's my wife."  
  
Galrilion looked to me, obviously in shock. "I would never have expected that from her."  
  
"Excuse me? Now, really, how do you know her? It had better be a good reason you're here, otherwise you won't be for long.." Haldir cautioned.  
  
"My name was Keiro."  
  
"What?" Haldir and I asked as one. How could he be here? He. we. I. Keiro had been. he was dead. He couldn't be here.  
  
"Impossible. Who are you, really?" I replied, barely making it through the sentence without stuttering. I couldn't decide to be angry, or to be confused.  
  
"You do not remember that you had a brother?"  
  
"Of course I would remember something like that. My brother Keiro was killed three hundred years ago. He was mortal." I stopped, as one of Galadriel's prophetic statements popped into my head. She had said that Keiro had gone to Mandos, not the place that mortals go to rest..  
  
I stared in the boy's eyes, trying to see whether or not he was lying. Haldir's hand slipped from mine and he moved to pick the boy up and throw him out of our house for trying to fool us like that. "Wait." Haldir stopped to set the boy on his feet, and I started to hum the tune from my mother's home.  
  
Galrilion. Keiro. finished it for me, softly singing the words in Rohirric. My eyes widened, and we pulled each other into a hug. Words could not express my happiness for I couldn't believe it was him. My brother.  
  
My family. 


End file.
